Grifters
by ascentofstan
Summary: Lizzy Walker is a short con player loosely affilaited with the Bennet clan, a small group of criminal friends who scrape a living for each other and themselves. Keen to step up her game and make London her playground, she meets Charles Bingley, a new player on the scene, and Will Darcy, a mysterious and somewhat legendary long con artist who infuriates her more than any man alive.
1. Spanish Prisoner

**Hello. Here's a story. It's modern and pretty AU. Some characters have changed a fair bit, Jane the most probably. It's a sort of crime thing. See if you like it. No worries if you don't. I'm not sure on it either to be fair. Thanks.**

* * *

Her legs were bouncing up and down as she glanced around the room.

"For God sake Lizzy, relax will you!" the blonde sitting next to her hissed.

"I hate these places Jane," Lizzy replied, running a restless hand through her brunette hair for the third time in a minute. "We shouldn't be here."

"No, we shouldn't, but we are so just deal with it."

"Do you think they know?" Lizzy pondered, subtly gesturing towards the front desk.

"Know what?"

"You know …. who we are, what we are?"

"Well, seeing as we both have criminal records and we had to give our names at the desk, I think it would be safe to assume that they are aware." Jane said idly, flicking through her magazine as calm and poised as always. Nothing ever ruffled her, nothing ever fazed her.

"Great," Lizzy grumbled. "Fucking Lydia …."

"Don't start Lizzy," Jane sighed. "I had enough of that on the way over here."

"Well I'm sorry, but I've just realised we are sat in the middle of a police station despite the fact that we are grifters…"

"Are you trying to get us both arrested?" Jane asked, seemingly paying more attention to her magazine than to her companion. "I for one would like to spend tonight in my own bed, not at the pleasure of her majesty."

"Well, it's true!" Lizzy lowered her voice to a whisper. "We should be as far away from these places as possible, not popping down the station for a cup of tea. Jesus Christ, these are the people that spend all day trying lock us up."

"Stop talking Lizzy." Jane sing songed under her breath.

"Let's just get out of here. Forget Lydia, it's her fault she's in here anyway, I told her to be more careful."

"She'd do the same if one of us got locked up. We are a family, that means we take responsibility for each other when we need to." Jane patiently explained.

"Seriously I keep getting funny looks." Lizzy ignored her, glancing around darkly.

"That's because you are acting like a mental. We have a job to do so let's do it ok? Just leave me in peace while we wait. There's an article in here about an apparently newly discovered Rothko, gotta be worth millions…. wonder what the securities like around it…."

"Unbelievable!" Lizzy exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air "You are actually planning your fantasy robbery in a police station!"

"She's joking," Jane assured a passing police officer in uniform who had stopped in front of them after Lizzy's outburst. Luckily he smiled at them, probably distracted by the blondes beauty and moved on shaking his head.

"Right, you are not to speak again. Ever." Jane said firmly.

"Elizabeth Walker and Jane Morgan?" a voice called out into the waiting room.

"Thank God." Jane muttered as they stood up and sought the source of the voice.

"It's Bennet actually. The surnames." a young girl of about fifteen smirked at the police officer stood next to her as Lizzy and Jane walked up to them. Lizzie recognized the officer, had seen him before. Though he may have arrested her before….

"Not in this station it's not," the police officer said angrily. "The fucking Bennet's. We don't recognize your ridiculous practice of taking on the same name. It didn't even work for The Ramones, and they were The _fucking Ramones_ , not tin pot criminal scum like you lot."

"I think I like this one," Lizzy grinned at Jane. "Feisty."

"Sign this." the office sighed, thrusting the clipboard into Jane's hands.

"With pleasure officer." Jane smiled sweetly.

"Whatever," he dismissed. "And I swear to God Lydia, if you end up in here again, they'll be no more short stays, I'll make sure of that. Same goes for any of the Bennet's."

"Thought you didn't recognize that name in this establishment." Lizzy smirked, causing Lydia to laugh loudly and even Jane to crack a smile.

"Get out of my station." the officer sighed again wearily, pushing Lydia towards them before turning on his heels and walking away from them.

"Yes sir!" Lydia saluted his disappearing back, before promptly howling with laughter again.

"Let's get out of here." Jane ordered.

* * *

Lizzy held back as smile as Lydia bounced down the steps of the police station, twirling with laughter, hair blowing wildly in the wind. The girl was the most frustrating human being she had ever met, stubborn, at times mean, self destructive, idiotic, clever, funny, awful. Everything a teenage girl often is, but heightened to even further extremes. Not normally the type of person Lizzy would associate with, too young, too wild, but by some bizarre twist of fate, they found themselves as family.

Ok, not strictly family in the traditional sense of the word. But they were part of the Bennet clan, a small crime ring that operated in central London, and when she said small, she meant small. This was not some Mafia shit, not some drug cartel. It was just a loose group of lost kids and young adults who occasionally got together to steal stuff and con people out of petty cash. There was a strict code though, passed down by the leader, Thomas Bennet. You only steal from those who can afford it. Luckily, in London these days, almost everybody could afford it to lose something.

The three women, well two women and one girl, headed down towards the South Bank, Lydia laughing as they went.

"What the hell were you doing South of the river anyway?" Lizzy asked, annoyed. It had been a trek for them to get over here. Bloody tube maintenance.

"You know, this and that." Lydia laughed and Lizzy rolled her eyes at Jane.

The family was headed up by Thomas Bennet, an amazingly disinterested crime boss, and his wife Frances, a woman who had never quite achieved what she had wanted in life. She wanted the lifestyle, the cars, the jewellery, the money, and she had hedged her bets on Thomas to achieve this. However, despite his obvious ability and talent, it soon became clear that it just didn't appeal to him. He was far happier plodding along, doing well but not too well, staying under everyone's radar. Initially, he had taken more of an interest in the everyday running of his organisation, and all of it's members had been recruited personally by him. However, these days, he just let everyone get on with things. He'd provide the fence for any of stolen goods a member of the gang bought in, he'd recommend a couple of soft targets now and again, he'd help you out if you were desperate, but he kept his distance. And it suited everyone. There was just one requirement.

Total loyalty.

That's what had first appealed to Lizzy. It had been Jane that had found her, sixteen and alone in the city, parents dead, no family, and just a trail of nothingness to fall back to. Jane bought her a coffee and was nice to her, was generous. So obviously Lizzy stole her handbag when Jane went to the toilet. But just as she was getting clean away, she stopped and caught herself in a shop window. What the hell was she doing? A person shows her kindness and this is how she repays it? She was better than that. So she trudged back, head down and embarrassed into the café. When she finally looked up, she saw Jane smiling broadly, two plates of chips in front of her. The rest was history. Lizzy had been introduced to Thomas Bennet who had taken to her immediately, and she was in. She was taught how to pick pocket, taught the Three Card Monte, how to work 'The Badger', how to count cards, how to win at poker, how to sneak into a mansion quiet as a mouse and never leave any trace. She had been taken in by a group of people who's sincerity and loyalty was absolute, and she perversely became a better person for joining a criminal organisation.

It hadn't always been plain sailing. Her and Jane had both appeared in court a few times, and just last year been given a suspended sentence for attempted burglary. Her fault completely. Now, at the age of 22, she was beginning to move slightly away from the family. She entered more legitimate card games and robbed less houses, her and Jane moved out of the traditional Bennet neighbourhood into their own place. She started looking out for bigger scores, for bigger players. For now, they were doing alright. Not spectacularly, but they were getting by. Yeah, they were doing alright. They were small time, for now.

For now.

"So, wotcha thinking Lizzy?" Lydia linked her arm through hers. "Wanna go and get totally wrecked?"

Lydia was a newer addition to the group, along with her sister Kitty. They were teenage pickpockets who had made Covent Garden their playground over the summer months. No-one knew where they had come from, they never spoke of any family, never spoke about anything of substance really. Lizzy thought they had a slight northern twang to their accents, but Jane disagreed. It had been Frances who'd discovered them, with Lydia's hand in her handbag. She'd been instantly smitten with the two girls, who were everything she liked in people (ie pretty vacuous, albeit in a charming way).

"No Lydia, we are not getting wrecked." Jane replied firmly, drawing her hood closer around her angel like face, a few strands of blonde hair escaping down her face.

"Where you staying at these days Lyds?" Lizzy asked, curious.

"Oh, you know, here and there…" Lydia deflated a little.

"I thought Mary King was putting you up?" Jane said.

"Well, we may have kinda had a little party without telling her…."

"Oh for fuck sake Lydia," Lizzy half shouted. "That's the third time in four months!"

"I know, I know," Lydia muttered, looking up with big eyes at Jane. "It was stupid."

"Don't give me those eyes young lady," Jane said. "They won't work on us."

"I heard you two have got a new place…." Lydia said quietly, a half grin on her face.

"NO!" Lizzy and Jane shouted at the same time.

"Come on guys! It'll be fun! And I promise we'll be on our best behaviour."

Lizzy laughed.

"No Lydia. We ain't gonna fall for it. I know exactly what you two are like."

"But Lizzy…"

"Hey, hey," Lizzy interrupted. "I said _we_ wouldn't fall for it. That doesn't mean I don't know someone who will."

"Who?"

"Frances," Lizzy said, causing Jane to laugh. "For some reason, she thinks the sun shines out of your arses, and Tommo ain't gonna go against her. He's such a pussy these days."

It was mainly in affection Lizzy said this, but there was some bite behind it. She respected her father figure's decision to step away from the family he built, indeed she was doing the same, but she didn't respect his pandering to Frances, who in her opinion was a pretty awful woman. Lizzy still loved her in a way, but she didn't have to like her.

"You know, that ain't a bad idea sis." Lydia pondered thoughtfully.

She took the whole family thing very seriously did Lydia. Lizzy had been the same when she was her age. Sometimes Lizzy looked at Lydia and wondered what had bought her here, to this moment with them, what had made it so she had no-one but her sister, nothing but that love. Why was she like she was? But that was a dangerous game to play. Everyone had their own shit. It was best not to go digging around in it.

"Anyway," Lydia began. "I think Frances wanted to see you both anyway, so we should go now if you two ain't busy."

"God, what does she want?" Lizzy groaned.

"Be nice Lizzy," Jane admonished her. "She's always looked out for us."

"Yeah, be nice to mummy Lizzy!" Lydia grinned.

"Don't call her that, it just encourages her." Lizzy warned and both the girls laughed.

"You any idea what she wants us for Lyds?" Jane asked.

"It'll cost you a Nando's." Lydia replied quick as a flash, a wide smiled adorning her face.

"I'll get you a coffee." Jane attempted to compromise. She got on better with Frances that Lizzy, but she was also aware that you should always know what the woman wanted before you saw her. Gives you time to prepare a tactic for rejecting whatever it was in the most tactful way.

"Fine." Lydia said, backing down as easily as they all knew she would.

"So…." Lizzy prompted.

"Well, the rumour going around town is that there's a new crew putting down roots in the city. And they're recruiting."

"This happens every other week," Lizzy dismissed. "Why so important this time?"

"Firstly, their British which makes a change," Lydia smirked. "And apparently, this lot are big time, the real deal. Proper Vegas, Monaco, high rollers."

"You got a name?" Lizzy asked sceptically. Lydia was unsurprisingly prone to exaggeration. It would probably turn out to be two blokes from Glasgow here on a short con spree.

"Charles Bingley's one."

"Never heard of him." Jane cut in.

"Him, maybe not," Lydia smirked, relishing having one over on her friends. "But he ain't coming alone."

"Spit it out Lydia." Lizzy pushed her lightly.

"Alright, alright. So, what do you lot know about a certain Will Darcy?"

Lizzy and Jane looked at each other.

"Will Darcy?" Jane said astonished, after a while. "Well, fuck me."

"Fuck me, indeed."

This was about to get interesting. Very interesting indeed.


	2. World Luxury Association

The three of them came eventually to their destination, the nondescript townhouse of Thomas and Frances Bennet. It was located in Shoreditch, a historically working class area that had been slowly but surely gentrified over the years, and was now known as the creative hub of London, and full of all the pricks that came with that. Lizzy sneered at the café full of hipsters opposite the Bennet's front door. This was the problem with London these days. The ordinary had been pushed and pushed back to the outskirts of the city until they had to leave it completely. In their place came the young professionals, the dot commers, the marketing executives, the estate agents, the fucking _performance artists_. It was enough to make you sick. This gentrifying of the city was eroding away what had been so special about London in the first place.

"Okay Lydia," Jane turned to the young brunette before she rang the doorbell. "Best behaviour from now on and you'll have a place to crash. And Lizzy, don't rise to it ok? Whatever she says, don't rise to it."

"Fine." both of them muttered. Truth was, Lizzy was unlikely to rise to any of Frances disparaging comments anymore. There was time when they had hurt her more than she would care to admit, but these days she could just laugh them off. Frances was what she was. You had to see the funny side of that.

Jane rang the doorbell and the door was flung open almost immediately. It seemed that Frances didn't have much to do these days other than wait by the door.

"Darlings Jane and Lydia!" she pulled the two into a hug, before spying Lizzy over their shoulders. "And Lizzy too. How…. lovely."

"What no hug for me?" Lizzy smirked.

"Of course dear." Frances fake smiled at her before pulling her into a quick one armed embrace.

"Sorry for just dropping by mum." Lydia charmed, Lizzy rolling her eyes at the choice of address.

"Nonsense dear, you and your delightful sisters are always welcome here! Now come in, come in, your dear father just got me a new Warhol and I'm just dying to show it off."

Lizzy rolled her eyes again. Frances imagined herself as some kind of art connoisseur, but truth was she knew absolutely nothing about it. She'd have been an ideal mark if she wasn't who she was. Lizzy didn't pretend to no much about art herself, Jane was the expert, but she knew before she saw the piece Frances wanted to show off that it would be a fake. She was proved right as they walked into the living room, where the painting was above the fireplace, and Jane shot her a quick raise of the eyebrows. She had to hold back a laugh.

She zoned out of what Frances was saying as they sank down onto the couches. Looked at Frances properly for the first time in a while. It was always disconcerting looking at the woman in her opinion. Difficult describe, but it was like she was just off beautiful, like she her features were slightly distorted and her mannerisms were awkward and wrong.

She was still banging on about the Warhol. Lizzy had never got it really. Didn't pretend to be an expert, but it seemed to her that the type of people who liked Warhol were the hipsters they were surrounded by, and Lizzy couldn't get on board with them.

"Anyway, I'm glad you all came to see me today. Looking so beautiful Jane and Lydia! Are you sure about that colour on you Lizzy?"

Lizzy raised an eyebrow as she looked at the 'beautiful' Lydia who was trying to hold back a laugh and was dressed in a crumpled plain black hoody, leggings and ratty converses. And she was the one who got the fashion advice.

"You know me Frances, beauty's all on the inside."

"Yes, but it wouldn't hurt for you to make a little effort would it?" Frances said snootily.

"Lydia told me you wanted to see us Frances." Jane interrupted quickly, attempting to diffuse the situation before it was lit.

"Yes, yes. I did. However thanks to your useless father it seems you may well have wasted a trip."

"What do you mean?" Lizzy asked, leaning forward on the couch.

"Well," Frances began self importantly, pouring herself a drink. It was 11am. "Thanks to my numerous and well connected sources, I discovered that a certain Mr Charles Bingley is about to set up base in this very city. Now, I hadn't heard of the gentleman in question, but when I heard he was staying in the penthouse suite at the Netherfield, I simple had to know more. Turns out he's a big deal, well connected, and he's here on a recruiting mission. So, obviously my thoughts turned straight away to our darling Jane here!"

"What do you mean?" Lizzy repeated, narrowing her eyes.

"Do I have to spell it out for you child? Charles Bingley is recruiting. Jane's a grifter…"

"You want me to join his crew." Jane stated quietly.

"Yes, yes!"

"But what about us, what about the Bennet's?" Lydia piped up. Lizzy shot her a warning glance.

"Don't you see it girls?" Frances half shouted, standing up and walking around, gesturing animatedly. "This is our chance! Our chance to take this family where it belongs, right to very top!"

This was typical Frances, Lizzy thought. She couldn't fault the ambition, couldn't fault the enthusiasm, and although she was mainly doing it for herself and her own glory, it was a plan that would undoubtedly benefit Jane as well. The problem was, she hadn't thought it through. If this crew really was a high stakes as they were being made out to be, then there was no way they would touch Jane or anyone like her with a barge pole. They were way to small time and inexperienced. She voiced these thoughts out loud, but what Frances said next stunned all three girls into silence.

"Obviously, that's why she'd have to use her other um ….. _charms …._ to persuade him!"

"You want me to seduce him?" the normally mild mannered Jane exploded. "You want me to fuck him until he lets me rob with him, is that it?"

"Jane!" Frances admonished, shocked. "Such vulgarity. I'd expect it from Lizzy, but not from you. Anyway, it doesn't matter now."

"And why do we have to thank Tommo for putting an end to your pimping?" Lizzy sneered.

"I've told you before to not address your father in that manner. You and your nicknames. Bingley's having a cocktail party tonight in the West End, a sort of meet and greet thing with some of London's premium organisations. I had hoped to secure an invitation for at least Jane and Lizzy, but your father is too lazy to get off his arse and make the right connections to make this happen. One phone call to Lucas was all it would take but no, of course not. Silly me for thinking that useless prat would do anything."

"Why don't you just phone him yourself?" Lydia asked.

"Don't be ridiculous Lydia. How embarrassing." Frances dismissed.

"Oh well, all's well that ends!" Lizzy chimed up cheerfully, earning a dirty look from Frances. Jane was still seething in her seat, so Lizzy grit her teeth and decided to voluntarily begin a conversation with Frances.

"There was another reason we came here today mother." Lizzy began.

Frances narrowed her eyes.

"You never call me mother Lizzy. If you want a favour, come straight out with it. Charm is not one of your strong points."

Lizzy laughed loudly.

"You may be right there Frances. Anyway, it's not for me, it's for Lydia here."

Frances' expression softened immediately. Lizzy sent Lydia a quick wink.

"It's just, her and Kitty have run into a few problems you see. They've been staying with Mary King but she keeps throwing these all night parties and Lydia thinks their might even be drugs going around at them. Shocking isn't it?"

"Oh dear, oh dear, no, no we can't be having that." Frances said with a concerned expression. Out of the corner of her eye, Lizzy saw Lydia desperately biting her lip and Jane shaking with silent laughter.

"I'm glad you agree. It's not an environment they should be in see? Two innocent," Lizzy grit her teeth at this lie. "Innocent girls shouldn't have to go through that every night. And it makes it harder for them to work."

"Naturally." Frances agreed.

"So, I was wondering if you knew anywhere they could maybe crash for a while. We've tried everyone we know, we even offered them our place, but they didn't want to be so far away from you."

God I'm good, Lizzy thought as Frances melted in front of her. The key with her was to always make it out as if what you wanted was her idea in the first place, that's why she hadn't asked outright. Butter her up, praise her, make her important, and get what you want.

"Well, of course they didn't want to be that far away from their mother!" Frances exclaimed. "They'll stay with us, right here."

"No mummy, we couldn't impose…." Lydia played her part.

"Nonsense, I'll hear no more of it! You will move in tonight! Let me just go and tell the maid."

Frances practically ran out of the room. After the door closed, they left it a few seconds before they all burst out laughing.

"You're a master craftsmen Lizzy!" Jane exclaimed, wiping a tear from her eye.

"I'm just so glad I'm getting away from all the parties. And, oh god, the drugs!" Lydia mocked.

"We can't have that can we?" Lizzy chortled. "But seriously Lyds, this is last chance saloon now. We're not doing this for you again. You screw this up, an you're on your own ok. We won't be their to catch you every time you fall."

"You are so wrong." Lydia laughed loudly, not taking any of this seriously.

"I'm serious Lyds…"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Lydia dismissed. "You reckon Frances will get me some new clothes? These are looking a little worse for wear…"

"Don't push it," Lizzy sighed. "Right, wait here, I'm going to break it to Tommo."

"I'll come with." Lydia went to stand up before Jane pushed her back down.

"Trust me, this will be best coming from Lizzy. The news his peace and quiet is going to be disrupted by two teenagers isn't exactly good for him. And he likes Lizzy more."

"Well, someone's got to." Lydia smirked.

Lizzy gave her the finger and stalked out the room.

* * *

She found Thomas Bennet unsurprisingly in his study. He was sitting at the large bay window, looking out onto the street smoking his trademark roll ups. He looked as dishevelled as always, greying hair long and tangled, posture more bent than she remembered. She hadn't seen him in a few months which was a long time for them. He was a father figure to her, he man who saved her from the streets, gave her friends and a purpose. Ok, so that purpose was a dishonest one but still. He turned as she coughed lightly announcing herself and his bright eyes lit up when they rested on her.

"Lizzy, dear. It has been too long. Please sit down."

She did as was asked, taking a seat in front of his desk which was overflowing with papers. He moved so he was opposite her and they just smiled at each other for a moment.

"So, to what do I owe the pleasure?" he began warmly.

"When you find out, I'm pretty sure I'm going to go right down on your list of favourites."

"Oh dear. Well best to get it over with I suppose. No need to keep an old man waiting."

"Well see, um …. LydiaandKittyaremovingiinwithyou." she garbled.

"What was that dear? Something about Lydia and Kitty? They ok? Frances would be devastated if something happened to those silly girls."

Lizzy steeled herself.

"They're fine. And they're moving in with you."

Thomas clutched his heart and exaggeratedly winced.

"Lord, what have I done to deserve this?" he dramatically looked up to the skies.

"You married Frances." Lizzy said, slightly harsher than she intended.

He regarded her for a moment with amused eyes.

"You're right of course. It is something I must accept I suppose."

"You ok with it then? Lyds and Kitty moving in?" she said, surprised. "There really was nowhere else…"

"Fine, fine. I already live with one ridiculous woman. Might as well make it three. They are family after all."

"They are." Lizzy nodded.

Thomas paused for a moment, stubbing his cigarette out in the ashtray. Ever since Lizzy had known him, he'd always been surrounded by a cloud of smoke, the constant smell of it clung to him. It made Lizzy feel oddly safe when she was around it.

"Now, I'm glad you dropped by, there is something else." Thomas stated.

"Go on."

"Has Frances spoken to you today of Charles Bingley?" he asked.

"Yeah, she had some god awful plan centred around Jane seducing him or something, but she said you weren't interested." Lizzy narrowed her eyes.

"Of course I'm interested!" Thomas replied. "Not the Jane part, but the rest. Normally I wouldn't get excited about such things, but when the name Darcy crops up, well …."

"I don't see the big deal personally," Lizzy crossed her arms. "What's so special about him? I've heard a few of the stories, but still…"

"And you may well be right. He may well be nothing more than an average grifter. But still, if just 5% of the stories are true, then I'm sure you'll agree he is someone worth meeting."

"So you've just been messing with Frances, me and Jane are going to this thing tonight? You want us to meet them?" Lizzy sighed.

"Oh no, no, no. We're all going. Lydia and Kitty too as well now, I'd imagine."

"You can't be serious!" Lizzy stood up. "Lydia, Kitty and Frances, meeting this class of criminal? It'll be a disaster!"

"Well, if it is, at least we'll have had a good chuckle and a free buffet." Thomas chortled.

"I can't believe this shit Tommo …" Lizzy grumbled.

"Don't be so downcast kid," he grinned at her. "What Frances said earlier was partly true. This is an excellent opportunity for both you and Jane. I know you're tiring of our little organisation and I don't blame you for it. You two have the talent to go far in this business. If you can just reign in that careless streak …"

"What careless streak?" Lizzy said, offended.

"The one that got you both banged up last year!" Thomas reminded her. "I mean seriously, forgetting to back chain the alarm system? You've done that hundreds of times."

"And you have to keep reminding me. Ok, I fucked up then, I admit it."

"You did. And you can get away with it down here. But up there? If you want to be a real grifter Lizzy, if you want to play the long con, you can never be careless, you can never be a little slow, a little late. It'll get you killed, you understand? The stakes are that much higher. You've got to want it more than anything. Do you want it Lizzy?"

Lizzy looked him dead in the eye.

"I want it all." she replied.

"Okay then," Thomas smiled. "Let's go make my wife's day."


	3. Lost in Translation

**Hey, thanks to everyone reading and reviewing. All appriciated as always. Here's the next one.**

* * *

Frances had of course been delighted with the turn of events. Lizzy had rarely seen her so pleased to be married to Thomas Bennet. She immediately insisted on taking Jane and Lydia out dress shopping, meeting up with Kitty along the way. Jane looked like she was about to argue for her inclusion, but Lizzy just shook her head. She'd much rather spend the day doing more practical things. Besides, she didn't dress up for anybody really. Bid goodbye to Tommo, promising she'd be at the Elevens bar in the West End at around 8. She thought about calling Mark up and asking if he wanted to go to work today, maybe work the Badger or the Pigeon down near Trafalgar Square, but in the end, she just couldn't be bothered. It was getting harder and harder to find the motivation when you were just making a few hundred quid a pop. Maybe Tommo was right, maybe tonight was a good opportunity for her. However, she would take a back seat. It was Jane's turn. She owed her best friend the first shot. Didn't let herself get carried away though, the likelihood was that this would be a waste of time. If Bingley was serious, he'd be taking a big risk if he recruited her or Jane. They'd never worked the long con before, sure, they knew the basics and Lizzy was confident that they could do it, but still they were amateurs.

She decided to call Charlotte Lucas to see if she was being dragged along to this thing tonight. It was highly likely. Charlotte's dad was a well respected fixer in the industry, but she had turned into a bit of a disappointment really. Her parents had ambitions for her to leave this life behind, maybe go to University. Instead, she'd chosen to go the opposite way, just to spite her parents. Truth was, though Lizzy was loathe to admit it about her best friend, she wasn't exactly exceptional. She was decent at Poker mind, and made most of her money in illegal card games.

The phone was picked up after about three rings.

"Hello … oh God! Hello?" answered a voice Lizzy didn't recognize.

"Um Charlotte?"

"No, no, I just picked the phone up … um .. Charlotte? _Her name is Charlotte!_ Yeah, um, I'm with Charlotte, she's been run over by a car."

Lizzy held back a laugh. She'd obviously caught Charlotte in the middle of working 'the flop'. Charlotte had chipped a bone in her elbow in a fight a few years back and it turned out to be pretty lucrative in insurance money, so she took advantage of this whenever she was short of cash. It was simple really. You waited by a busy main road until you saw a driver who was distracted, eating, on their phone, that sort of thing, then took a tumble over the bonnet. Go down, go to hospital, claim the injury as new, the insurance company pays out.

"You still there?" the voice on the other end was yelling at her.

"Yes, yes," Lizzy responded, faking as much concern as possible. "How is she, is she conscious?"

"Yes, just. The ambulance is on it's way. They're taking her to Royal London."

"Okay, I'll be there as soon as I can."

Lizzy hung up the phone and let out the laugh she'd been holding in. The flop. Charlotte kept it old school. She decided she'd take a walk back along the South Bank, see if she could find a spot to work the Three Card Monte on some unsuspecting tourists for a bit. Something to pass the time at least until tonight. She was dreading it.

* * *

"Yes, yes, I know, I'm late!" Lizzy said breathlessly as she approached the Bennet's near the bar at half past 8.

Frances tutted loudly at her causing Lydia and Kitty to giggle. Jane gave her a warm smile and a roll of the eyes, whereas Tommo just smirked at her.

"It's quite alright Lizzy dear. Although you did just interrupt my wife's _fascinating_ analysis of whether Lucas' daughter has put on weight."

"Charlotte's here?" Lizzy looked around, surprised.

"Of course, it's her father who organised this whole thing. Why wouldn't she be?"

"She was working the flop in Whitechapel this afternoon, didn't think she'd get here in time."

"The flop, I ask you," Frances sneered, haughtily. "When will that girl grow up? Mind you she's always been average, average intelligence, average looks."

"That's quite enough Frances." Tommo said sternly, obviously catching the rage in both Lizzy and Jane's eyes.

Lizzy looked around as Frances swanned off to find some of her awful friends. It was a fancy bar, no doubt about it. And there were some real players here. How the hell had they got into this party Lizzy wondered? She recognized a few faces, Florida Pete (he'd once sold someone Disneyland, con men were not known for their creative nicknames), Lisa Hearts, thought she maybe caught a glimpse of the Swiss twins. All experienced grifters, but Lizzy got the feeling that it was the people she didn't recognize who were the big timers. Armani suits and Rolex's. She suddenly felt a little self conscious. She'd made the least amount of effort that she thought she could get away with. Her hair was tied back into a sloppy ponytail, she'd put on a nice top with her best jeans, but still. Jane, Lydia and Kitty were dressed up like it was the fucking Ambassadeurs Club in Mayfair. As was everyone else to be fair. Except Charlotte, who was wearing her Doc Martens and usual grunge gear. She sent Lizzy a mischievous smirk and came over to the group.

"Bennet's," she nodded as she approached, still smirking. "Nice to see you all on this fine evening."

"Good evening Charlotte," Tommo replied warmly. "You must excuse me, I have to go and thank your father for extending the invitation today."

The four Bennet girls and Charlotte were left alone.

"So, this is exciting." Charlotte said sarcastically, pulling out a hip flask and taking a long pull from it.

"God, you're such a tramp Lucas." Lydia sneered. The two didn't really get along.

"Ah shut up Lyds," Charlotte ruffled the younger girls hair, much to her annoyance.

"This took me three hours!" she almost shouted at Charlotte, who looked like she was about to bite back before Jane interrupted.

"Now, now, children. Let's not cause a scene."

"No, not when we have such important guests to impress." Charlotte chuckled, putting the 'important' in air quotes.

At least Lizzy wasn't the only one who really didn't want to be here.

"So, come on then Charlotte, you're the one in the know. Is Will Darcy really coming tonight?" Lizzy asked her. If she was here, she might as well make the most of it.

"Indeed he is." Charlotte said disinterested.

"Oh, do me a favour Lucas, stop pretending to be so cool and above this," Jane laughed at her friend. "It's fucking Will Darcy! Every grifter in the country knows who he is, has heard the stories. So no way you are not the least bit curious."

Charlotte smiled a real smile at Jane.

"Okay, okay, you've got me. Of course I'm interested. The man who stole the Mona Lisa, then put it back the next week?"

"I heard he's ex SAS." Kitty piped up.

"Yeah," Lydia nodded self importantly. "And he took the Pink in the 90s …"

"Don't be stupid Lydia," Lizzy dismissed. "Of course he didn't, he's not Serbian."

"It's what I heard. And I heard he sold the World Cup."

"And he pulled off the biggest 'Reverse Big Store' in history in Monaco."

"Yeah and he purposefully got locked up for five years, just cos his next mark was in there!" Lydia finished excitedly.

Lizzy laughed at the girls excitement. She'd heard all of the stories before. She also knew that the majority would be bullshit or at the very least grossly exaggerated. Nevertheless, she felt the twinge of curiosity. The man was a legend, there was no doubt about that. And she was going to meet him.

"Alright, alright girls, that's enough," Jane laughed. "Besides, isn't it all about this Charles Bingley tonight? He's the one putting together the crew right Charlotte?"

"Yeah," she nodded. "From what I can gather, Darcy's pretty much retired and is just here to help Bingley get set up. The two are best friends apparently."

"You know anything about Bingley?" Lizzy asked, before smirking. "Jane's been tasked with seducing him."

Charlotte laughed loudly.

"Frances is a fucking maniac isn't she?" she said. "So what's the tactic Janey, gonna play it coy and cool or go straight in for the kill?"

"I thought I'd just walk in front, say 'hey Mr Bingley, I'm Jane' and then slut drop him." Jane said, dryly.

"You hear that Darcy?" a voice spoke up from behind them, full of mirth. "Sounds like I'm in for quite the treat."

Jane screwed up her eyes in painful embarrassment. Lizzy winced, Charlotte laughed into her fist and Lydia and Kitty ran away. Lizzy was the first to grit her teeth and turn round.

"Charles Bingley, I presume?"

* * *

To be fair to Charles Bingley, or Charlie as he was now insisting they call him, he dealt with it all very well. Jane launched straight into a rambling explanation, refusing to look the new arrival in the eye, digging further and further into the ground. Lizzy knew she should step in, but it was just too funny. Jane now appeared to be offering a free lap dance for him. Charlotte was in pieces next to her. Luckily, Charles stepped in here, chuckling loudly.

"There will be no need for that, not that I'm sure it wouldn't be delightful," he grinned at her and she finally looked him in the eye.

Lizzy thought she felt the spark between the two herself. Charles grin faltered a little as he looked at Jane, and Jane blushed furiously. They looked like one of those awfully happy couples in a photo frame already. Lizzy had to admit he was good looking, in an earnest sort of way. He had a kind face. He had light brown skin and a tamed afro nestling on his crown. He was a little scruffier than most around, but he held himself with confidence. And Jane was the most beautiful woman she knew.

Oh God, Lizzy thought.

1 - 0 Frances.

After a few seconds of them just staring at each other, there was a light cough from behind them and Lizzy looked up to see a smirking woman with a similar complexion to Charles take his arm.

"And what do we have here then Charlie." the woman said.

Lizzy didn't like her. She knew that straight away. Firstly, she was ridiculously beautiful, but unlike Jane, it was clear that she was well aware of it. Secondly, the tone was patronising, she was already looking down on them.

"I .. um .. Um …" Charles faltered.

"What we have here is a car crash." a bored sounding voice spoke up.

Lizzy sought the interruption and met his eyes briefly before he looked away, pulling his phone out his inside pocket and staring down at it. So, this was obviously Will Darcy. He was a different prospect to Bingley entirely. Whereas Charles gave off an approachable air and was handsome in an inviting way, Darcy was the complete opposite. Handsome, yes but cold. All angles and jaw line. If Charles was summer, then he was definitely winter. He was tall, well over six foot, wore a navy suit as well as any man alive, she would wager.

She thought he was a twat straight away.

"Very funny Darcy," Bingley recovered, going slightly less red. "Right, yes, of course, where we? Introductions! I'm Charles Bingley, but please call me Charlie, this is my sister Caroline Bingley and the looming presence behind us is Will Darcy."

"I'm Jane," Jane said shyly. "Jane Morgan."

"And I'm Lizzy Walker and this is Charlotte Lucas." Lizzy finished off when it became clear Jane wasn't going to.

"Walker and Morgan?" Caroline Bingley spoke up. "I don't remember those names being on the guest list."

Lizzy was sure to notice the way Will Darcy suddenly graced them with his attention. His eyes snapped up immediately to them at Caroline's words, expressionless, but Lizzy could tell there was an awful lot going on in there.

"We may well be under Bennet. Jane and Lizzy Bennet. That's the name we go by sometimes." Lizzy cut in.

"Ah I remember," Caroline nodded before smiling at them. Lizzy didn't trust it. She saw Darcy relax out of the corner of her eye and continue ignoring them. "Well it's lovely to meet you both!"

"You too," Lizzy said in a friendly tone, deciding to play nice. "And you Mr Darcy."

Stone cold silence. He wasn't even paying attention to them, was just awkwardly standing at the back of his group, looking around with what Lizzy could only describe as a sneer. This was the legendary Will Darcy? The con man extraordinaire?

"Darcy!" Charles hissed, elbowing him in the ribs.

"What?" Darcy snapped at his friend.

"Lizzy was just saying how nice it was to meet you."

"Yes of course," he said distractedly, his eyes not even looking up from his phone. "Excuse me for a moment will you."

And with that he swept away, leaving Bingley apologising for his friends rudeness. Lizzy raised an eyebrow at Charlotte, who just mouthed the word 'wanker' at Darcy's retreating back.

What an anticlimax that was.

* * *

Lizzy kind of enjoyed it all after that. Charles turned out to be good company, friendly and interesting, even if he did constantly glance at Jane when he was talking to anyone. Even Caroline improved slightly, actually making Lizzy laugh with some put downs directed towards her brother who just laughed loudly at them. She managed to have a good catch up with Charlotte, kept Lydia and Kitty reasonably in line, and had kept away from Frances. Success.

The one downside however, was the presence of Will Darcy. He just seemed to be always _there._ Standing at the edges, looking down on everyone, not making any form of effort. The only people he talked to were Caroline and Charles. And of course no-one dared approach him. This was Will Darcy. Everyone whispered of it, what a disappointment he was, what an up himself so and so, what a rude man. But the question that no-one else was asking that Lizzy was, was how could this man possibly be one of the greatest living grifters? You had to be likeable to be a grifter, you had to have the gift of the gab. You had to be able to totally own a room. Charles, yes, you could see it, see why people would trust him and give them their money, but Darcy? It didn't fit. And it annoyed Lizzy that she was so curious.

She escaped onto the balcony of the bar for a bit, lying down on a trendy sofa tucked away in a corner. She took a sip of her beer before shutting her eyes. Her peace didn't last long as she heard the door open and footsteps echo out. Whoever it was was hidden from her view, but she heard the unmistakable click of a lighter before the deep inhale and exhale. It was a man, she deduced as she heard him sigh.

The door opened again.

"Come on Darcy, at least _try_ to have some fun this evening!" Charles Bingley's voice echoed out into the night, causing Lizzy to hold back a groan. Bloody Darcy again. Well, she wasn't moving, didn't wan any more interaction with him. She decided to just wait it out.

"And since when did you start smoking again?" Bingley was saying.

"Well, they are rather addictive." Darcy sighed.

"Trust me my friend, it gets easier. Two years for me now, and I don't miss it at all."

"You know what the problem is?" Darcy said with a slight sneer. "People who give up smoking take up telling people they've given up smoking."

Charles laughed loudly at his words. Even Lizzy thought it was a little amusing.

"Alright, alright," Charles was saying. "But come on mate, this is supposed to be a party! We're supposed to be having a good time!"

"No Charles, you are supposed to be building contacts and recruiting a new crew." Darcy said, seriously.

"You know how you make new friends Darcy?" Charles waved his arms. "You have fun with them!"

Darcy sighed and flicked his cigarette off the balcony.

"Besides," Charles carried on "Everyone's talking about you, you know. Seems you are quite the mythical figure. I heard someone claim that you were a member of the Pink Panthers for God sake!"

"Do I look Serbian?"

"Well, in this light ….."

"Look, Charles," Darcy raised his voice. "You know my opinions on this. I tried to talk you out of this party, you're just drawing attention to yourself. We are con men Charlie. We shouldn't be being talked about, being discussed by everyone. We shouldn't be known. We shouldn't be throwing parties and parading around town!"

"Everyone here was thoroughly vetted by Caroline, and you know she doesn't make mistakes." Charles said firmly, impressing Lizzy a bit. "Besides, it's a bit late for your name not to be known. You're probably the most famous grifter around these days."

"Rules need exceptions. And anyway, I'm retired." Darcy stated snootily.

"Just lighten up brother! And stop being such a bloody drag!" Charles punched him in the arm. "Anyway, I think I've made a few promising connections already."

Lizzy was surprised by the loud chuckle that Darcy let out into the night. It was a nice sound, nicer than she thought he was capable of making.

"Ah, are we by chance referring to the pretty blonde you've been staring at the whole night?" Darcy chuckled.

Lizzy's ears perked up as the two men got onto the subject of Jane. She was interested to hear Bingley's thoughts, although she was pretty sure he was already halfway in love with her. This wasn't really anything new, everyone fell in love with Jane. What was new was that Jane had the exact same expression on her face when talking to Charles that he did. She liked him. Like, maybe a lot. That was rare.

"Isn't she just a vision!" Charles swooned.

"I cannot disagree with you there," Darcy replied, reluctantly. "She is extremely beautiful. Just be careful Charlie, I don't think those are the kind of people you should be associating with."

"Why?" Charlie asked confused.

"You didn't read any of the background information Caro supplied about your guests did you?" Darcy admonished. "This is the problem Bingley! I'm here to help you, but I won't do everything for you. You have to pay attention to everything in this game. You're not my roper anymore, you are about to become the leader of your own crew, and with that comes more responsibility than you can imagine. You are responsible for their safety. You need to start looking at all of it, not just the bits that excite you!"

God he was patronising, Lizzy thought.

"Okay Darcy, okay," Charles raised his hands in surrender. "You're right, of course you are, you're always right. It's a bit annoying."

"I am not always right Charles, I'm just more consistent with it than most." Darcy bragged, arrogantly.

"So, fill me in. Why shouldn't I be hanging out with Jane Bennet."

This should be good, Lizzy thought, clenching her fists.

"Well, first off the bat, they're nowhere near the quality level you are looking for. Secondly, the 'family' thing is bloody creepy, some weird old man adopting street kids? Sinister. Thirdly, they've all got criminal records and are known to the police. Therefore you can't touch them."

"Oh, come off it Darcy, nearly everyone we know is known to the police! You had an entire taskforce dedicated to bringing you down at one point!"

"Yes, but I have never been charged with anything. It shows a carelessness that you should not be looking for in potential recruits." Darcy dismissed.

"Everyone makes mistakes when they're starting out," Charles defended. "I know I certainly did, and I'm sure you did too. And I don't think their set up is creepy at all. Sounds like Thomas Bennet has saved a lot of lives. Also, how the hell do you know their ability level?"

"They're small time Charlie," Darcy said, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Short con players and burglars, just a group of chancers and thieves."

"That description could aptly be used to describe us you know." Charles shot back.

"No. The true con _artist_ is not a thief. They are a miner, mining peoples greed."

"Oh, good another quotable," Charles mocked. "Look, I was a thief Darcy, Caroline was a thief, George was a thief….."

"He is still a thief. Do not mention that mans name in my company again." Darcy interrupted with real menace in his voice. Lizzy felt a shudder for this George, whoever he may be.

"Sorry," Charles apologised. "But the point is we all come from somewhere. You found us and took us in, taught us how to play the game. So, why all this shit now about them being too small time?"

Darcy sighed and muttered something inaudible.

"I understand your concerns Will," Charles soothed, using his first name for he first time, Lizzy noted. "But let me play this one out ok? There's something about this girl. What about her sister, Lizzy? From what Jane's been telling me, you two could maybe hit it off, if you apologise for being so bloody rude earlier.….."

Lizzy nearly threw up in her mouth.

"Rude?" Darcy questioned, confused.

"Earlier, when she introduced herself? You just walked straight off. It was awful."

"Well then she probably won't want to talk to me," Darcy dismissed. "Look, fine, if you want to spend your time with some bottom of the rung, weirdo family then by all means go ahead. Just excuse me for trying to look out for you."

With that, Darcy turned on his heel and exited the balcony. Bingley called after him but was ignored. She heard him sigh and whisper something that could well have been 'prick' before going back to join the party. Lizzy sat up on the sofa, hands slightly shaking with fury.

Will Darcy.

What a fucking prick indeed.


	4. The Fiddle

"God, I mean, what an absolute arsehole!" Lizzy exclaimed to Jane and Lydia the next day in their flat. "I mean, seriously, some weirdo family? Sorry, not all of us can be latchkeyed rich boys! What a prick!"

"A good looking one though." Lydia giggled.

"If you like that sort of thing I suppose." Lizzy muttered.

"Oh, come on Liz!" Lydia scoffed. "Everyone likes that sort of thing."

"I fucking don't."

"Whatever. What do you reckon Jane? Jane?….. JANE?"

Jane looked up, startled.

"What?" she asked, and Lydia and Lizzy burst out laughing.

It was the day after Bingley's party and they were lounging around in her and Jane's flat, not really doing anything of consequence. Just analysing last night. Somehow, Lydia had ended up crashing at their place and seemed to have no intention of leaving anytime soon. At least Kitty had gone out to work. They probably should too, but it was difficult to get the motivation, especially when Lizzy was still seething about Will Darcy. Jane, on the other hand, was in a daze, seemed to have a small smile permanently adorning her face. Wonder what that could be because of, Lizzy thought sarcastically.

"Why so distracted Janey?" Lydia mocked. "Could it be something to do with a certain fit bloke and his afro?"

"I don't know what you are talking about." Jane put her nose in the air.

"Sure, sure," Lydia smiled broadly. "What do you think about Will Darcy then?"

"I must admit, I expected something quite different." Jane said, diplomatically.

"Did you hear what he said about us Jane!" Lizzy exploded. "He called us a bunch of weird, amateur thieves, who aren't good enough to even have a conversation with!"

"Yes, well, you have to admit to an outsider, our family situation can appear a little strange." Jane mused.

"Are you actually defending that bell end?"

"No, obviously what he said wasn't very nice, but still I can see why he may think it. Look at it from his point of view. Tommo is an old man adopting homeless girls into his family. That does set alarm bells ringing for some people."

"He should learn the facts before he opens his stupid mouth!"

"Yes, because he is the only one guilty of speaking before they think….." Lydia said slyly.

"What the hell are you still doing here Lydia?" Lizzy attacked, taking her comment to heart a bit.

"Alright, alright, I'm going," Lydia stood up to leave. "Some of us actually have to work for a living. Don't suppose you wanna work The Pigeon with me today Jane?"

"No, no," Jane tailed off distractedly.

"Suit yourself," Lydia smirked. "I'll go catch up with Kitty and Denny then. See you later bitches!"

Lydia crashed out the door, laughing away as always, leaving Lizzy and Jane alone in their flat. It was a nice place, they'd done it up well. But now she had Jane alone, Lizzy was more interested in her flatmates opinions on a certain Charles Bingley than admiring the décor.

"So, spill." Lizzy commanded, sitting down next to Jane on the sofa.

"Spill what?"

"Oh come on Jane! You and Charles Bingley were staring at each other for the entire night! It was a little bit nauseating to be honest."

"God, was it that obvious?" Jane's eyes widened in alarm.

"Um, kinda yeah," Lizzy admitted, causing Jane to put her head in her hands. "But it wasn't too bad." she added quickly.

"You're saying that to make me feel better aren't you?"

"Well, yes. But he was looking at you more than you were looking at him if that helps."

"Really?" Jane questioned in a small voice, her eyes peaking out at Lizzy through the gaps in her fingers.

"Really." Lizzy said, before she couldn't hold it in and began to laugh hard, rolling onto her side on the sofa.

"Why are you laughing, stop laughing!" Jane went to hit her.

"Sorry, sorry, it's just I've never seen you like this before!" Lizzy choked. "All lovesick and girly!"

"I am not lovesick," Jane shouted at her. "I only talked to the bloke for about ten minutes for fuck sake!"

"Awwww, our Janey's in love!" Lizzy teased some more, eliciting a more violent reaction.

"No I'm not! Fine, I'll admit, I am a bit interested alright? Will that shut you up?"

"Yes, certainly. So, interested huh?" Lizzy probed, more seriously now.

"Yes. Interested. He seems like a decent bloke. Fit as well."

"Oh, no doubt," Lizzy faux sighed dreamily. "He's just so handsome!"

"God you're being a dick today," Jane stormed into the kitchen, Lizzy following, laughing all the way. "Look, can we like not talk about this. It isn't what we do, we're better than this. Talking about blokes like fucking Lydia? It's pathetic. So yes, I may have met someone. End of."

"Alright, fine," Lizzy grumbled, picking up an envelope from the counter absent mindedly, before double taking at the notice on it. Final Warning. She opened it with trepidation.

"Oh, for fuck sake!" she exclaimed out loud as she read it.

"What?"

"We forgot to pay the fucking leccy bill!"

"How much?" Jane asked snatching the letter from her. "Oh dear."

"Well Janey, looks like we'll have to get to work," Lizzy sighed. "What do you wanna do, fleece the city boys or the tourists today?"

* * *

They decided to try their luck in the city first, but they found the going slow. The city boys, once so brash and arrogant in the days before everybody hated them, were more cautious with their cash these days. They were still wankers with too much money to spend, but they wouldn't hand over any of it without a fight. Even Jane's charms were failing. They got a phone call from Lydia around lunchtime saying that her and Kitty had already made a couple of thousand today in the Leicester Square area, with the help of Denny and a couple of others Lizzy hadn't heard of. They decided to go and see their 'sisters' seeing as they weren't getting anywhere, and reached the busiest part of London at 2 o'clock, still a few hours to go but they needed to start making some money soon. It was too dangerous for them to work after dark in the city. They found Lydia and her friends lounging by the fountain, having an extremely boisterous lunch.

"Well, look who decided to come out and play today!" Lydia exclaimed as they approached. "All dressed up as well. What's with the business suits girls? You going straight?"

"Tried our luck in the city this morning." Jane replied, sitting down next to Kitty on a bench, giving her a kiss on the cheek.

"Waste of time these days," a good looking man who neither of them recognized spoke up. "Ever since the crash they've stopped putting their hands in their pockets."

"Tell me about it." Lizzy sighed, eyeing up the newcomer.

He was good looking, there was no doubt about. A little on the short side, but with well defined muscles and a dazzling smile that was currently directed towards her. She felt a little spark, nothing that moved the earth, but still a certain warmth. She immediately realised she'd have to be careful with this one. She prided herself on her ability to read people, and her intuition was telling her that this bloke was a charmer. Whether it was real or not, she couldn't tell. It was the problem with the game they were in, rarely was someone what they seemed.

"George," he held out his hand. "George Wickham."

"Lizzy Bennet," she greeted back, taking the offered hand. "Don't think we've met before. How do you know our Lyds then?"

She glanced around quickly and realised that she had been left alone in the conversation. Jane and Kitty were sharing a joke and a sandwich on the bench, Lydia was flirting shamelessly with Denny, and the others she vaguely recognised as some of the sisters friends were doing their own thing.

"I don't really, truth be told," he smiled at her, running a hand through his long, dark hair. "To be honest I'm a little old for this scene really."

"Really?" Lizzy said, surprised. She'd put him at about her age. "How old are you then?"

George laughed.

"Where are your manners Lizzy Bennet? he flirted. "Never, ever, ask a gentleman his age."

"Oh, is there a gentleman around?" she played along, looking around them.

"Ok, you got me!" he smiled. "I'm actually 28."

"No way!" Lizzy exclaimed, shocked.

"I know, I know," George grinned. "Nearing that big 30."

"So what's an old man like yourself doing hanging around Leicester Square with a bunch of kids?" she asked, slightly suspiciously, something George picked up on immediately.

"Some pathetic mid life crisis thing," he joked. "Trying to make myself feel young again. No, truth be told, I'm a friend of young Denny's brother. He's out of town for a while and asked me to keep an eye on his little brother. He's a good kid, a little green, prone to a few mistakes, so I check up on him every now and again."

"That's good of you." Lizzy praised, relieved that he wasn't some creep hiding behind his charm.

"Yes it is isn't it?" he replied, in a mock superior tone, making Lizzy laugh. She liked a man who didn't take himself too seriously. They were both distracted by a shriek and watched as Denny chased Lydia around the fountain in the middle of the square.

"Ah, to be young!" George exclaimed, before lowering his voice intimately. "I must admit to feeling quite out of place. I fear that I can no longer keep up with the youngsters."

"Trust me, not many people can keep up with Lydia." she frowned, watching her friend laughing and shrieking away, drawing attention to herself as always.

"Yes, I got that impression. Seems like a nice enough kid."

"Nice?" Lizzy laughed. "Most people wouldn't describe Lydia as nice."

"Well, I'm not most people." he grinned cockily.

"No, you're not." Lizzy flirted. She was enjoying their banter, it wasn't often she got much male attention. Most blokes went straight for Jane for her beauty, or Lydia, who looked older than she was and was much more willing to embrace their advances. Lizzy normally stayed in the background, offering sarcastic comments and put downs, not an attractive quality for most men apparently. They didn't like a woman who spoke her mind. Pigs.

"So, I hear you're a grifter?" George asked her.

"You a cop?" she joked.

"Do I look like a cop?"

"The good ones never do." she smiled.

"You're right of course. But no, I am not a copper, perhaps I should have been. No, I'm nothing but a humble grifter making my way through life. God, I never thought I'd be 28 and still be in the game."

"Yes, it shows a remarkable lack of progress," Lizzy teased. "Shouldn't you have moved up in the world by now?"

For the first time, George's front slipped a little, and she saw some real pain behind the mask, before it was quickly replaced by his normal charming smile.

"Alas, the cards I have been dealt in life have not always been favourable," he smiled, although Lizzy could see something else behind it in his eyes. "But, that is a story for another day. What brings you down this way then?"

"As we said, the city was not playing ball today. Lydia said her and Kitty were cleaning up down here so we thought we would give it a shot."

"I think you may have been deceived on that one!" George laughed. "I've been here two hours and I haven't seen any money being made."

"Typical Lydia," Lizzy spat. "Probably just wanted us to come down here for her own entertainment, not that it looks like she need us."

"I'll keep an eye on them if you're concerned," George offered. "I know what it's like to have a younger sister."

"You have a younger sister?" Lizzy asked, touched by his offer. He seemed like a decent bloke.

"Well, not exactly, but pretty much, maybe a bit like your situation. In my opinion, blood doesn't matter, if you're close enough to someone, than they are family."

"Absolutely." Lizzy smiled at him. He understood.

"Anyway, Denny won't do anything inappropriate when I'm around. He knows better." George said.

They just smiled at each other for a moment before they were interrupted by a shout and Jane came towards them.

"Lizzy! Kitty says they haven't made anything down here today. This is a waste of time!" Jane said, annoyed.

"Yes, I've heard," Lizzy sighed. "Jane, this is George Wickham, he's a friend of Denny's brother, just looking out for the kid."

The two shook hands, and Lizzy was fully expecting what normally happened to happen. He'd see Jane and drop her like a hot potato. She was surprised to feel a twinge of annoyance. Normally, she didn't mind it really, but she liked George and was thoroughly enjoying their flirtation. She was pleasantly surprised then when he shook Jane's hand briefly and turned back to her with that smile, continuing their conversation.

The three of them spoke for a little while longer, George only going up in her estimations with his easy going manner and charm. They lapsed into brief silence after a while and a self important looking man paused near them and they could hear him talking on his phone.

"The bloody cheek of them I'm telling you!" he was exclaiming. "I'm trying to run a restaurant here. And the little shits want a pay rise! I told them, they should be happy for the work! If they can show me a visa then I'll happily pay the minimum wage, but these illegal immigrants ought to accept £3 pound an hour and be bloody grateful! But no, I take on these ching chongs and they just complain! I've got to go and work on my own bar now! Pouring drinks for the plebs, all because some chinaman won't get off his arse!"

Lizzy frowned at the racist man and watched as he entered a swanky looking restaurant.

"What an absolute twat." George said angrily.

"Isn't he," Jane said thoughtfully. "How about it Lizzy? Think we may have found ourselves a mark?"

"Absolutely." Lizzy smirked, grinning at Jane.

"So what do you reckon?" Jane eyed up the restaurant.

"Change raise?"

"Nah, come on, let's go bigger on this one," Jane encouraged. "One swoop and pay off the bill. One con."

"Art student?" Lizzy upped the stakes.

"Good, but too much prep."

"A Gold Brick?"

"Maybe…." Jane pondered.

"Wait a second…." Lizzy had a light bulb moment. "I got it. The Fiddle."

"The Fiddle?" George scoffed at her. "No way does that still work. Hundred quid you can't pull it off."

"I'll tell you what," Lizzy smirked at him. "Make it a monkey and we'll do it with an actual violin."

George laughed loudly.

"If you can pull that off then I will bow down to you. That's got to be the cheekiest thing I've ever heard! Alright, a monkey says you can't do it."

"You're so on." Lizzy smiled at him, shaking the outstretched hand. He smiled warmly and then walked away back towards Lydia and Denny, who were shamelessly flirting as always. She liked him. He was a bit cocky sure, a bit too sure of himself, but then again, what short con player wasn't? She knew that description could apply to her also. He was funny and clearly intelligent and quick witted. But she was looking forward to taking his money.

"Just one thing Lizzy," Jane said. "Where the hell are we gonna get a fucking violin from?"

* * *

They sent Lydia and Kitty out to get one in the end while Jane changed into some shabbier clothes and they ran over the plan. The fiddle was one of the oldest tricks in the book, a short con that had been played for decades by grifters. It was a simple one, but tricky to execute and would take a lot of skill. If the mark had heard of it, then they were screwed. However, Lizzy was confident.

"So, Jane, you ready?"

"Yep, yep," Jane replied nervously. "So, I go in, buy a couple of drinks, make sure the managers the one to serve me. I get him talking, say I've got an important meeting at the bank, going to get a loan, spin him a sob story. Hopefully, he'll fall for it…"

"Course he will," Lizzy scoffed. It's why they'd chosen Jane ahead of her for the first part. Because she was so good looking, men were putty in her hands. The manager wouldn't know what had hit him. "Remember, you're a musician who's fallen on hard times, taken to playing in the streets, on the tube, that sort of thing. Play it desperate, sweet and subordinate."

"Ok. Once I've spun him the tale, go to pay and then say I've forgotten my purse. Act a little ditzy, then offer to leave my violin as collateral, say it's all I have left in the world. Say I'll come back after my meeting at the bank is over and I've got my loan. Say I'll pay him then."

"Good, good," Lizzy praised make sure he accepts it.

Lydia came waltzing back to them, violin in hand.

"Where did you get that so fast?" Lizzy asked, impressed.

"You know Gypsy Mary?" Lydia laughed. "Well, you owe her a score if this plays well."

"Fine, fine." Jane replied, taking the violin. "Ok, all set. Wish me luck!"

She took a deep breath and walked across the square to the restaurant.

Lizzy waited in anticipation. She was nervous. This was certainly audacious. To try 'The Fiddle' was enough, to do it with an actual violin was borderline suicide. She was having doubts as she waited. Five minutes, ten minutes, fifteen minutes. The whole time just waiting for the sirens. God this was a stupid idea, she thought. She'd gotten carried away again, this was what Tommo had been warning her about. She got caught up in Wickham's smiles and flirting, had been pushed to impress him. That wasn't her, trying to impress some bloke. But her fears turned out to be unfounded as she saw Jane walk out the restaurant, sending a subtle thumbs up in her direction before disappearing into the crowd. They'd meet up in Covent Garden later. It was Lizzy's turn. She waited ten minutes before steeling herself.

"Here we go." she muttered.

"Good luck Lizzy Bennet," George grinned. "And remember, you never met me ok?"

"What do you mean?"

"For when you get arrested!" he laughed.

Lizzy gave him the finger, took a deep breath and made her way towards the restaurant. Her heart was beating fast, but she had to calm herself. She could do this, this was an easy score. She focused on the marks horrible words earlier. He deserved to get taken.

She entered the building and took a seat at the bar. It was a nice place, swanky enough to be almost upper class. No surprise considering the rents in this part of London. She put on an air of superiority and sat down carefully at the bar.

"Vodka, on the rocks." she commanded the bartender, the man from earlier, who frowned at her before beginning to pour. She looked around, made it look as if she was judging the place.

"There you go, settle up when you're done." the manager said.

"Ah, a proper bar that knows how to treat it's customers," Lizzy put on her best upper class accent. "It's a rare thing these days."

"Well, I pride myself in being the best." he bragged arrogantly. He had a small, pinched face, darting eyes and an odious manner about him. Time to go.

"What's that there?" Lizzy exclaimed, putting the right amount of excitement in her voice.

"Just a violin, customer left it in here earlier, is coming back for it later. I personally just think it was an excuse to come and see me again." he smirked and Lizzy held back her disdain.

"Can I see it for a moment?" she asked.

"Don't see why not," he replied." Just be careful with ok?"

"Trust me," she said, carefully handling the violin. "This is an instrument that is worth taking care with!"

She put on an expression of wonderment as she examined the violin, carefully running her hands over it, muttering exclamations under her breath for the mans benefit. She flicked her eyes briefly up and knew the man was hooked.

"Just a dusty old piece of rubbish isn't it?" he asked suspiciously.

"Oh no, oh no no no!" Lizzy said distractedly. "Why, this is marvellous, incredible. I haven't seen one of these in all my lifetime!"

"What do you mean?" he narrowed his eyes.

"This, barman, is one of the finest instruments I have ever seen. You see the markings here and here? Oh lord, this is just incredible! You say a customer left it here?"

"Yes," he confirmed, but Lizzy could tell his mind was whirring with exactly what she wanted. "It's a rare piece then? Worth some money I'd imagine …."

"Oh, god yes," she breathed. "I'm an antiques dealer see. Instruments are not normally my speciality, but I know enough to know that this is a rare piece, as you said. You have a good intuition sir."

"Well, I'm not just a pretty face," he leered. "So how much are we talking?"

"A piece like this? I'd be surprised if it went for anything less than ten thousand."

"Ten thousand?" the manager's eyes boggled before narrowing seconds later. "No, I know your game. Trying to make a tidy profit aren't we? I'd wager it's worth double that."

"If you know where to sell it, maybe. Anyway, as it is not yours to sell, this conversation is pointless is it not?" Lizzy smirked.

"I guess …."

"I'll tell you what," she said, finishing her drink and placing a ten pound note on the bar in front of her. "I'll give you my card and you can give it to the owner of this violin whenever they come back in. Tell them to call me and I will be willing to pay twelve thousand for it. Cash."

She slid over a card that said Rachel Sterling, London's premier antiques firm. It was one of numerous cards that she had, all with different names and different occupations. Antiques was a common money maker, so she always had it on her just in case. It had certainly come in handy today.

"I'll do that." the manager said, distractedly, examining the card.

"You do that, whoever sells this stands to make quite the sum. I'd imagine twelve thousand could do a lot for a lot of people, especially in this city. So many people down on their luck these days. Oh, well, it's all good for business!" she said, evilly. She enjoyed getting into these roles, enjoyed the rush and the pretence.

"Ok then. Keep the change now. Tara!" she gave him a wave and walked out of the restaurant, doing a little dance on the inside. It had gone swimmingly, all Jane had to do now was close the deal.

* * *

"How did it go?" Lizzy asked as Jane came breathlessly towards her an hour later in a corner of Covent Garden. Lydia and George had tagged along with her. They were on tenterhooks.

"Well, I went back in, told him the bank had not approved my loan, but I had managed to beg a tenner to pay for my drinks if I could have my violin back …."

"And?" Lizzy said in anticipation.

"He was sympathetic, leering at me the whole time, then the conversation turned to my violin. He said it was a shame to see someone as pretty as me down on their luck and that he would like to help me out…"

"Oh, God, he didn't try to sleep with you did he?" Lizzy questioned, worriedly.

"No, no, although he did ask for my number," Jane laughed. "I gave him a fake. Anyway, he said he was interested in the violin, said it would be a nice thing to have in his bar."

"Twelve thousand pounds ringing in his ear no doubt." Lizzy smirked.

"So he offered me a grand."

"A grand?" Lizzy deflated disappointedly.

"That was his first offer. But when I explained it was my livelihood, he went up a little …."

"How much is a little?"

Jane paused for dramatic effect.

"Oh, you know," she said after a while, a broad grin breaking out. "Four grand."

"Yes!" Lizzy squealed, punching the air. "Four fucking thousand! God, you're a genius!"

"Hey it was your plan!" Jane gave her the credit.

They were interrupted from their celebrations by a clapping George Wickham.

"I must admit, I am impressed!" he laughed. "Can't believe it worked. There is more to you than meets the eye, Lizzy Bennet."

"That there is." Lizzy said in a slightly suggestive tone, not missed by Jane who raised her eyebrows at her.

"Looks like I'm five hundred down then," George sighed before grinning again. "Oh well, it was worth it for the lesson in grifting. You two really are the real deal! Give me five minutes, and I'll nip to the cash point and get your money."

He walked away laughing and shaking his head saying "The Fiddle, four thousand, fucking hell."

Lizzy grinned at his retreating form before Jane coughed lightly. She turned to face her to see an evil grin on hers and Lydia's faces.

"After all the shit you gave me this morning." Jane shook her head.

"What?" Lizzy replied still grinning.

"Oh, there's so much more to me than meets the eye!" Lydia mocked, playing with her hair and fluttering her eyelashes. "Why don't you come back to my place George? We can like, Netflix and … chill."

Lizzy laughed at her sisters.

"Oh piss off you two. We should celebrate! That's more than enough to pay the bills! What say we head up to Brick Lane? I could murder a Madras right now…"

"Shall we invite lover boy?" Jane asked.

"Well, it would only be polite …" Lizzy trailed off.

"Sounds good to me! Lydia exclaimed, never one to turn down a freebie. "I'll just call Kitty and ….. Hold on, is that Charles Bingley?"

* * *

Indeed it was. Charles Bingley himself was walking towards them, a broad grin on his face. He appeared to be alone and it didn't go unnoticed that he was smiling at Jane the whole time as he walked towards them. Lizzy held back a laugh as she saw Jane self consciously checking her immaculate hair, obviously forgetting that she had dressed a bit like a tramp for the con earlier. It wasn't her best look, but Bingley didn't seem to care.

"The Bennet's!" he exclaimed jovially as he approached, his eyes not leaving Jane. "I was told I might find you down here!"

"You've been looking for us Charlie?" Lizzy questioned in a teasing manner that went unnoticed by the man.

"Yes, yes. I greatly enjoyed meeting you all last night, and seeing as I am new to the city and lacking in company other than my sister and Darcy, I thought I'd pop down and see what you were up to!"

"Looking to make new um _friends_?" Lydia held back a laugh.

"Absolutely," he replied, seeming to miss Lizzy and Lydia's gentle ribbing. "So, what do you think, how about I treat you all to dinner?"

"We were just on our way to Brick Lane actually," Jane said shyly. Lizzy hadn't really seen her like this before, it was most amusing. "How about you come with?"

"Sounds grand!" he smiled.

Their staring match was interrupted by George Wickham jogging back to them.

"Here you go Lizzy, a bloody monkey. Five hundred gone just like that…" he sighed before noticing the newcomer.

Both the men went slightly tense as they looked at each other, there was a spark of recognition, Lizzy could see that. It seemed that neither were particularly happy to see each other. George had gone white, and Charles seemed less cheerful than normal. However it was he who recovered first.

"George, long time no see." he said cautiously, extending his hand.

"Charlie," George nodded, taking the offered hand. "It's been too long."

"It has old chap," Charlie half smiled, the tension mostly disappearing. Charles seemed to be an expert at putting people at ease. "Last time I saw you was in Paris …"

"Takes me back. Five years ago now …" he trailed off.

"That long eh?"

"Yes. Um, listen Charlie," George began nervously, running a hand through his hair. "I never got to apologise for it all. You know I had my reasons, but I should have dealt with it all a bit better."

"You should," Charlie nodded seriously, before smiling at the man. "Oh well, we were all young men back then. I could only have been what, twenty, twenty one? We all make mistakes and I am not one to live in the past."

"I'm glad to hear you say that."

"So how do you know the lovely Bennet's then?" Charlie asked, attempting normal conversation. Lizzy could tell it was an effort.

"Ah, I've just been well and truly schooled Charlie!" Wickham exaggerated, turning on the charm again. "I've just seen Lizzy and Jane here pull of the perfect Fiddle! And with an actual violin! Can you believe the balls of that!"

"The Fiddle," Charlie laughed. "God, that takes me back. Do you remember that time in Manchester with the duck and ….."

"There you are Charlie, you left me with Caroline in the Disney shop you swine ….." Will Darcy appeared interrupting, before stopping dead in his tracks when he saw George. How were all these people just appearing without notice in an open space Lizzy wondered.

However, she was wondering more at the current silent conversation that appeared to be going on between Darcy and George. George had gone even paler and Darcy had fury etched on his face. But Lizzy also saw something else behind his eyes. It was pain, she deduced. Sorrow. George seemed to gather himself and forced himself to maintain eye contact with Darcy.

"Will." he greeted quietly, Lizzy noticed the use of the first name.

"George." Darcy almost spat out through his gritted teeth.

"I didn't know you were in London." George attempted to make small talk.

"Well, here I am. Come on Charlie, let's go."

"I'm going to head up to Brick Lane with the Bennet's here," Charlie said cautiously. "Why don't you join us Darcy?"

"I think not." Darcy said rudely, before turning on his hell and storming off.

There was an awkward pause.

"I'm sorry Charlie," George apologised to the man in front of him, eyeing up Darcy's retreating form. "Some people aren't quite as forgiving as yourself."

"Not to worry, not to worry." Charlie said, doing his best to stay cheerful, although Lizzy could see the doubt in his eyes.

"We're all going up Brick Lane if you want to join us George?" Lizzy asked hopefully, both intrigued and curious by what had just transpired.

"No, no, I've got to get on," George put his front back up. "It was great to meet you all though!"

Lizzy smiled at him despite the disappointment she felt, and the group said their goodbyes to him, moving off towards the tube, Charlie offering his arm to Jane.

"Lizzy, hey Lizzy!" George called out to her, running to catch up. The others moved on and she was left alone with him.

"Sorry about all that," he apologised. "Me, Charlie and Darcy …. Well let's just say we have a complicated history."

"Oh?" Lizzy encouraged.

"Yes, we've all done things we are not proud of and a lot of my mistakes lie with those two. Not just mine however, Darcy is equally to blame, if not more so ….. Anyway, I'm keeping you, don't mean to bore you with my boring shit! I'll tell you what, I'm going to work on the Southbank on Saturday, fleece those tourists! How about you come down at lunchtime and we can get a drink? I think I'd really like that."

Lizzy felt a small flutter again, and she couldn't deny her curiosity had been piqued. She agreed in a heartbeat.

"Excellent, I'll see you then. Meet me outside the Southbank Centre at 1? I know a place."

"Ok," Lizzy smiled. "See you then."

As she turned and ran off to catch up with the others, she had a smile on her face the whole way.

But despite the pleasure at a sort of date with George, there was only one thing running through her mind. And if she was honest with herself, it had been there all day.

Just who the hell was Will Darcy?


	5. Kansas City Shuffle

"No! Absolutely not. 100 fucking percent no Jane!"

"But, Lizzy," Jane whined. "I can't go on my own!"

"I have other plans."

"I know for a fact that you don't seeing as George cancelled on you. I've been meaning to talk to you about him anyway, Charlie won't say much about him, but from what I can gather there isn't much love lost between them…"

"And I suppose that can only be George's fault yeah?" Lizzy replied, slightly annoyed.

Ok, so George had cancelled on her, sending a message through Lydia seeing as he hadn't got her number when they had met. But that didn't mean he was an awful person. Plans change all the time.

Anyway, the current argument was over Lizzy's refusal to go to Charlie Bingley's suite at the Netherfield for 'cocktails and nibbles' as Caroline had apparently described it. Lizzy could think of nothing that sounded less appealing. Charlie and Jane had hung out a fair bit this week, indeed when they all had dinner together on the day they met George, they had only really spoken to each other. It was clear that Charlie was smitten with her friend, and that the feeling was pretty mutual. She was happy for Jane, she really was, but she couldn't face an afternoon (who has cocktails in the middle of the day anyway?) spent in the company. Charlie was alright, a little too earnest for her liking but he seemed a decent sort, but the others? Caroline was ok in short bursts but it was clear that she thought herself better than pretty much everyone else and it grated on Lizzy. And Darcy, fucking Darcy. She'd never met a man so up himself in all her life. She had seen him twice more this week, only briefly, but enough. He was so superior, so patronising to everyone around him. She hated him.

"Whatever," Jane was saying. "Look, please come, just for an hour! I can't go alone, it's embarrassing!"

"Take Lydia." Lizzy offered.

"Are you kidding me?" Jane said incredulous. "Lydia with that lot!"

"They're no better than her, however they may act." Lizzy stated angrily.

"I'm not saying they are Lizzy, but come on! You were the one who didn't want Lydia at that first party. You know what she's like…."

"Ok, I admit, it's not the best idea to take her. But why does it have to me?"

"Because you're my best friend and you owe me one." Jane said slyly.

"No, no, no!" Lizzy jumped up. "You promised you'd never do that!"

"Do what?" Jane questioned sweetly, the picture of innocence.

"You know what." Lizzy sneered.

"I don't know what you mean," Jane snickered. "Get ready, we're going in an hour."

Lizzy threw a cushion at her and stormed out to her room. Jane would always have the fact that Lizzy got them both locked up over her.

It hadn't even been her fault really. Well, not completely. Her and Jane didn't do too many burglaries, but this one had been too good to miss. Tommo had got the info for them, the location in Kensington, the name of the security firm so they could know what they were up against. It was supposed to be an easy score, five figures. Lizzy was acting as the fixer taking care of the alarms, rerouting the CCTV and making sure Jane had an exit. Jane was going in, it would take her about seven minutes. And everything had gone smoothly until the final two. What Lizzy hadn't realised was that the security had been upgraded just two days before and that even the third floor windows, where Jane planned to make her escape from, were motion sensored. Lizzy hadn't back chained, hadn't gone through the system when they set up. She thought there was no need, she thought she knew exactly what they were up against. It was a schoolboy mistake, one that she should never have made. Jane tripped the alarm and they were done. It took the in house security seconds to get Jane and then about a minute for them to trace Lizzy's server hack to the empty house across the street. She didn't even try to run.

They got a year suspended with probation.

And right now, that seemed the better consequence than seeing Will Darcy again.

* * *

Her mood only worsened in the cab ride over to Bingley's when her phone rang and the screen identified it as Frances. She thought about letting Jane answer, but it would be too obvious that she was trying to avoid talking to her if she did that.

"Hello." she sighed.

"Hello Lizzy darling! How are you today!"

"Fine." Lizzy replied with suspicion. Frances was never nice to her.

"Excellent, excellent. What are you up to today then?"

"Me and Jane are going to Charles Bingley's hotel for a party."

"Great news!" Frances shrieked. "Make sure Jane's looking extra beautiful! She is doing very well for this family!"

"I think she's doing it for herself Frances," Lizzy said in a monotone. "Not for your games."

"Well, of course she is! It just happens to be a very prudent match for her. Mark my words Lizzy, Jane will be in the big leagues before the month is out, and we will never have to worry again!"

"Whatever," Lizzy groaned. "So, why are you calling me anyway."

"Ah yes. Never let it be said that I favour one daughter over the other. I think I've come up with something equally as promising for yourself Lizzy."

"Oh God …"

"Yes! I knew you'd be excited. And grateful too I would imagine," Frances continued obliviously. "See, your father has had a phone call from a certain Billy Collins, the son of Raymond Collins, you remember him?"

"You mean the eye patch guy?" Lizzy reached into her memory.

"Don't be so insensitive Lizzy. It's not his fault he only had one eye."

"It was, he got caught shagging Donnie Aces wife didn't he? And we all know how he liked to play with knives…."

"Besides the point," Frances coughed. "Anyway, Raymond was a dear friend of your father, it really affected him when he died. They were like brothers when they were younger."

"Can we just get to the point Frances," Lizzy rolled her eyes at Jane. "We're gonna be at Netherfield in about a minute."

"Yes, yes, can't keep you from that," Frances crowed. "Billy Collins has been living out in Vegas see, working for an extremely big hitter over their, De Burg, De Bourgh, something like that, and he's coming to London on business. He grew up hearing the stories about his father and yours and he asked us if instead of getting a hotel he could possibly stay with us for a couple of weeks. So as you see, this is another great opportunity. Fate is dealing us the right cards this month Lizzy, oh yes it is! So he's arriving tomorrow and I want you and Jane, but mostly you, to be here for dinner at about seven o'clock! Ok, tara now!"

"Frances … FRANCES!" Lizzy shouted down the cut off phone. "Fucking bitch!"

"What's she up to now." Jane laughed.

"Since she thinks she succeeded in setting you up with a high stakes criminal she's now found one for me as well. You remember eye patch guy? Yeah, his son. Works for someone called De Bourgh out in Vegas."

"Never heard of her, I'll ask Charlie…"

"Don't. I have no plans to go along with her ridiculous schemes. But we do have to go to dinner at their place tomorrow night. It's not worth pissing her off by not showing up."

"The Netherfield, love." the taxi driver threw over his shoulder, pulling up outside the grand building, one of London's premier hotels. Bingley must have an awful lot of money behind him.

"How about we just turn around and go home?" Lizzy moaned. "It's not too late."

"Shouldn't complain love," the driver grinned at her through his mirror. "Most people would kill to be coming to a party in a place like this…"

"You ever met any rich people mate," Lizzy replied. "Pricks, the lot of them."

"Come on." Jane laughed, handing over the money to the driver and pushing her out the door.

Lizzy reluctantly got out the car and took in her surroundings. The fucking Netherfield, she thought. Who'd have thought she'd end up here? Just a few years ago she was living on the streets with no family, no-one she could call at all. And now? Well, the thought brought little comfort. She glanced across the road to see a bar opening for the lunch time crowd. Saw a last ditch opportunity for an escape.

"You go on Jane, I'll follow in a sec."

"Oh no you don't." Jane followed her gaze to the bar and grabbing her arm.

"I just need to have a quick cigarette." Lizzy tried.

"You don't smoke."

"Tie my shoelace?" she tried again.

"You're wearing straps."

"Make poverty history?"

"I think that one may be beyond even your capabilities Lizzy." Jane laughed, marching her towards the entrance.

"The deaths of thousands are on you Jane!" Lizzy shouted, drawing a few curious glances from the street.

Jane laughed again and pushed her through the door that was opened for them, and she walked into the belly of the beast.

* * *

"So I said, 'Louise darling, that's not real Gucci!'" Caroline finished her story to the sound of fake laughter.

Lizzy bit back a groan as she took another sip of her Long Island, wincing slightly due to the strength. Don't get her wrong, she could drink most folks under the table, often did in fact especially in her younger days, but these cocktails were unfamiliar. All made by a professional, all with the finest liquor and probably double the strength you'd find in the average bar that Lizzy would be seen in.

It was going as badly as she expected. The one saving grace was that she had managed to avoid Darcy so far, not that it took much effort. She'd only glimpsed him twice and it wasn't like there was many people here in the first place. Very exclusive, Caroline had whispered to her conspiratorially when they had arrived. In some ways she was surprised at the scene in front of her, in other ways not at all. Ok, so Bingley and his lot were criminals, but it was clear that they existed in a much more grey area than the Bennets did. Here there were lawyers and businessmen, doctors and the odd politician, even a Detective Chief Inspector. Good to see the MET was still as corrupt as ever, she laughed to herself. These were the kind of connections that money bought, and Bingley obviously had a lot of it. Or at least Darcy did. She was beginning to suspect that he was perhaps more involved with Bingley than he was admitting. Because as much as she liked Charlie, she got the impression that he wasn't the best organiser. Caroline had droned on and on about how she had arranged the whole event exactly to her tastes, and it appeared that Charlie didn't know any of these people at all, constantly being introduced by others he'd just met. Of course, he charmed them instantly, it was easy to see how he could be a potent grifter, but if she was speculating she'd say they were mostly here due to Darcy.

The same Darcy who was doing his best to avoid the lot of them.

Again, it bothered her. The more she came into his sphere, the more confused she got about just how this man was the legendary Will Darcy. Surely he must be an impostor, she caught herself thinking. She'd met her fair share of good grifters and none of them were as closed off as Darcy, or at least, they didn't let it show. Confidence tricksters. Confidence men. Confidence. Not aloof indifference.

"I must say Lizzy, your outfit is …. Interesting," Caroline graced her with attention. "Very _urban_."

By the way she said it, and the titters it resulted in, you'd think she was wearing a tracksuit and snapback instead of the jeans and shirt.

"Thank you Caroline," she said through gritted teeth. "I put on my best Reebok classics just for you. Excuse me, I need to go and find Jane."

She turned round quickly to avoid the looks of the other guests, but her luck had ran out. She turned straight into a hard body and it was only luck that stopped her drink from spilling all over…..oh great, fucking Darcy. It was funny though, she swore she saw the ghost of a smile on his face.

"Sorry." she muttered, moving past him and getting no response. Typical.

Her eyes scanned the room, looking for Jane. She was going to make her escape, she'd stayed way over an hour and couldn't handle it any longer. She'd last left her talking to Charlie, obviously, but hadn't seen her for about 45 minutes. Charlie was just over there talking to some suit, but Jane was not with him. Looked around the whole room and came up bust. The last place to check was the balcony.

She knew Jane was drunk as soon as she stepped out into the summer heat and saw her leaning precariously on some weird tall plant thing. In all her self indulgence she had forgotten what a lightweight Jane truly was. Jesus, two beers was normally enough for her to start swaying, God knows what those cocktails could do to her…. Well actually, it was quite evident actually as she looked on the sight in front of her.

"For fuck sake Janey how many do you have?" Lizzy ran over to her, guiding her onto a sofa.

"Three, I think," Jane slurred out. "I feel sick."

"Not here Jane!" Lizzy said. "You know where we are?"

"Of course I fucking do!" Jane shouted, Lizzy hushing her and casting a furtive look inside to make sure no-one had heard. "Oh, God, this is so embarrassing! What will Charlie think of me? Some fucking pisshead? You have to get me out of here Lizzy!"

"Unless you want to abseil down, the only way out is back through that lot. You think you can hold it together?"

"Yes, yes," Jane attempted to stand before promptly falling back down on top of Lizzy. "Or maybe no…."

She couldn't help but laugh. Jane drunk was always funny. She distinctly remembered one incident when Jane was declaring herself in love with some poet after a bottle of wine at an awful bohemian party. That had been both hilarious and excruciatingly embarrassing.

"Ok, ok, let's think." Lizzy got down to business.

"He can't see my like this Lizzy! I actually like the guy, like really like him. He's got such good hair and skin and teeth and…."

"Yeah alright." Lizzy interrupted with a laugh.

"And Caroline! She'll think I'm a complete idiot!"

Lizzy bit back the who cares retort as she could see Jane was in distress. She couldn't really see a way out though. The party was dying down a bit, but they'd never make it to the door unscathed, for one, no way Charlie would allow it. She was surprised he hadn't already come looking for her, it could only be a matter of time.

"I don't know how to get out of this one Jane." Lizzy admitted to a groan.

"I'm gonna be sick."

And just as Jane was vomiting into a plant pot, the door opened and Will Darcy stepped out onto the balcony.

* * *

He looked absolutely disgusted. He sighed before reaching into his pocket and producing a pack of cigarettes, taking one out and lighting it. He exhaled a stream of smoke onto the city in front of him.

"They'll kill you, you know." Lizzy said, attempting to deflect his gaze away from the mess that was Jane and onto her.

"That is what it says on the packet." he said stiffly, his eyes still looking at Jane with both disgust and a hint of concern.

"Why smoke them then?" Lizzy tried again, finally being rewarded with a cursory glance.

"I think the more pressing concern is what Miss Bennet is doing to my Topiary."

"She thought they needed watering." Lizzy said dryly.

Again, she caught the slightest ghost of a smile before it was replaced with a tight frown. Watched him shake his head and take another drag, noticed how he blew the smoke out away from her. Jane managed to look up at the new arrival, muttering out what could have been an apology before her head dropped again. Lizzy pulled her hair back and rubbed her back.

"My sister is just a bit unwell Mr Darcy…" she began.

"Unwell or just drunk?" he asked scathingly and Lizzy knew there was no point in lying.

"She's not a good drinker, never has been. Look, I need to get her out of here without anyone seeing her. She'd be mortified if anyone else saw her like this. She hardly ever drinks."

Lizzy hated to plead, especially to this man, but needs must. Darcy sighed again, flicking his half finished cigarette over the balcony.

"She is in no state to leave." he said flatly.

"She can't go back out there! Caroline will destroy her!"

"Caroline is one of my best friends," he warned. "Do not presume to know her."

Lizzy bit back a laugh. She knew exactly who Caroline was, an uptight, privileged snob.

Darcy pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Ok, fine. We'll put her in the guest suite and tell everyone that she is ill ok? She can stay here tonight and you can come get her tomorrow. I'm sure Charlie will take care of her…."

"No, we have to go home!"

"Out of the question. If you get a cab she'll throw up in it and it'll cost you a fortune, and I'm certainly not risking my Merc. She needs to stay here Miss Bennet."

"Walker. My name's Elizabeth Walker." she said, not knowing why. She never had a problem with people calling her Bennet before.

"That does not change the fact that she is too drunk to go anywhere. Look there's a side door at the end of the balcony, we can sneak her in and then go back and I'll tell Charlie that she's ill and will be staying."

"I'm staying with her." Lizzy said, again the words were out before she noticed them. Why had she said that? Of course, under most circumstances she'd never leave Jane like this, but in this situation? With the prospect of a whole evening with Darcy and Caroline awaiting her? She was ashamed to say she'd leave a man behind.

"Very well," Darcy sighed before going over to Jane. "Miss Bennet? Are you finished destroying the shrubbery? I'm going to lift you up now ok?"

He lifted her over his shoulder and carried her through the doors at the end, Lizzy trailing behind, wondering how it had all gone so wrong.


	6. Phishing

Ok, he was a smooth liar, no doubt about it. He had put Jane to bed, moved the bin next to her, filled a few glasses with water and laid them next to some aspirin, before rejoining the party with Lizzy by his side. She had wanted to stay with Jane, but he had insisted that she back his story up to Charlie and Caroline. He was showing her sister a kindness, she knew that, but it was the way he went about it all. Looking down, condescending, no hint of emotion whatsoever. He was just so cold. The Bingley siblings swallowed his lies immediately however, it appeared the bond of trust between them was absolute. No questions at all, just blind agreement. They both made a show of being concerned, although Charlie's hit as a lot more genuine than Caroline's, unsurprisingly. The way the three of them interacted however had Lizzy thinking and going back to Darcy's words from earlier about Caroline being one of his best friends. That immediate, slightly angry defence had struck her as odd, in all the interactions she had observed between the two, it appeared to her that Darcy saw her as no more than an annoyance. She was constantly touching him, attempting to flirt, seemingly un-noticing of his slight wincing whenever this happened. She had seen Caroline as a hanger on to her brother and him, a judgement that suddenly struck her as perhaps wrong. Maybe there was more to Caroline than meets the eye? Maybe she was in fact every bit the grifter that Charlie was, had she maybe been part of Will Darcy's legendary crew after all? It would explain a lot and made sense now she thought about it. Caroline had been droning on and on about how she had organised all of this today, she had been responsible for the guest list that first night they met. Lizzy still thought she was a stuck up bitch, but was beginning to come to the conclusion that there was more to it….

"I best go and check on her.." Charlie was saying in a concerned tone, beginning to walk towards the spare room before Darcy caught his arm.

"Best not to Charlie right now," Darcy said firmly. "Leave it till after the party ok? Let her rest for a bit."

"Yes, of course," Charlie muttered distractedly, again deferring to Darcy instantly. They really were in total awe of him weren't they, Lizzy thought. "Can we wrap this up sooner rather than later? I fear I may be quite distracted with the thought of Jane lying sick just over there…"

Lizzy was touched by his words. He seemed to truly care. He was so different to the other two, she wondered at how they had all ever become so close. They say opposites attract, but she had never found that to be a particularly true insight. But here it seemed to apply.

"You still have plenty of people to meet Charlie," Caroline admonished. "It took a lot to get all these people in one room."

"Charlie's right," Darcy interrupted with a sigh. "There's no point in continuing if he's going to be distracted. Beside, I think the aims have mostly been achieved."

"I suppose this means we have to cancel at the Ivy tonight as well?" Caroline said disappointedly.

"Yes, yes of course." Charlie said, perhaps not realising that Caroline had posed it as a question, not a statement.

"The Ivy eh?" Lizzy couldn't help herself. "It's all go with you lot isn't it?"

"Oh yes," Caroline nodded self importantly, missing the sarcasm in Lizzy's words. "These exclusive places do grow to be quite the bore, but we must keep up certain important connections."

"Of course." Lizzy smirked.

"Right then," Caroline said briskly. "I'll get Hurst and Louisa to wrap this up."

"No," Darcy spoke up. "I'm afraid you're going to have to grit your teeth here Charlie. It would be rude to let your guests be shown the door by anyone else I'm afraid."

"You're right. Ok, Lizzie, let me know how she's getting on ok? I'll wrap this up as soon as I can."

"Thanks Charlie." she nodded as he and Caroline linked arms and made their way back into the party, leaving her alone with Darcy for the first time in their short acquaintance. Oh, if only it could never be so, she thought.

God, he annoyed her. And what was it about him? What had Charlie nodding like a puppy at everything he said? Don't get her wrong, she liked the man, but she thought Charlie needed to man up a little bit. Even in retirement it seemed that Darcy was the puppet master, pulling all the strings around him, ordering everybody around like they were his subjects. A dictator clinging to power.

"Thank you," she managed to say through gritted teeth. "You know, for not telling them."

"It's fine," he replied coldly. "It's Charlie's career being affected, not mine."

Again, there it was. That disapproving tone, the words designed to make her feel bad and small and ashamed. She didn't feel any of those. Jane had got a little drunk at these ridiculously strong cocktails. So the fuck what? Jesus, was this man even human? Did he have an empathetic bone in that perfect body of his. Yes, she could admit to what Lydia had suggested. The man was ridiculously attractive on the outside. But inside, she thought he was rotten to the very core.

"I apologise," she said back, her tone betraying that she didn't mean it at all. "It was not our intention. Now if you don't mind, I'm going to check on my sister."

Without waiting for a reply, she stormed away towards the spare bedroom, not pausing for breath until her back was safely leant against the closed door.

* * *

She stayed in the room nursing Jane for as long as she could get away with. She knew she was being rude and that Jane didn't need her, but still she stayed. She just couldn't face it. Charlie had made almost constant visits as soon as the party had calmed down. You'd think from his expression and seriousness that she had meningitis or something. She was passing it off as a 24 hour bug and that all Jane needed was sleep. Luckily, Jane hadn't woken up and given herself away as being merely hammered yet in front of him. Charlie was endearing himself more and more to Lizzy however, and she even maybe believed that Jane had finally managed to fall for a good one. He was everything a young man should be.

She snooped around the room a little, just delaying the moment she would have to step out of the room and face Caroline and fucking Darcy again. Worse, she'd heard through the door that two of the more awful of guest were staying here tonight as well, Louisa and Hurst, old pals of Charlie's. This man needed some new friends, Lizzy rolled her eyes. Pulled open a couple of drawers, nothing really of interest. However, when she reached the bottom one, she found a cellophane bag, full of what appeared to be phone sim cards. She supposed she shouldn't be surprise. These were top grifters, all with reputations that invited the law onto them. Of course they were careful. She heard footsteps approaching and quickly shoved the bag back into the drawer, closing it before rushing back next to Jane just as the door opened.

"How is she?" the voice of Caroline came through to her, with a surprising amount of concern in it. Lizzy thought it might actually be genuine.

"Ok I think. She'll be fine by tomorrow." Lizzy replied softly.

"Good. Why don't you come out for dinner? We'll take it in turns to check on her. You can't stay cooped up in here all evening."

She had to agree, and Caroline's tone had undoubtedly softened her. Caroline had always been kind to Jane at least and did seem to care a little about her. Lizzy nodded and followed Caroline out into the main area. Was surprised to see a stack of Pizza boxes on the table, would never have envisioned Caroline agreeing to that choice of dinner….

"I know," Caroline grabbed her arm, mistaking Lizzy's expression of surprise for one of disgust perhaps. "But Charlie insisted. He's always been a big kid deep down."

"Nonsense," Charlie raised his voice from across the room. "I just get bloody sick of all those fancy places you and Darcy are always dragging me too. At least I have an ally in Hurst here, eh buddy?"

Hurst belched out in agreement, his sloppy posture on his chair betraying the fact that he was quite drunk.

"Charming." Caroline turned her nose up.

"Hey, I love pizza," Lizzy conceded, the sight of the unopened boxes causing a rumbling in her stomach. She hadn't eaten since breakfast and the cocktails had made her slightly tipsy, although that had mostly cleared. But alcohol made one desire greasy fast food.

"Another ally!" Charlie exclaimed. "Come on then Lizzy, let's inspect the offerings."

* * *

They ate mainly in silence, each doing their own thing. Caroline and Louisa sat together, occasionally whispering conspiratorially. Hurst appeared to be asleep, Charlie was munching away contentedly and Darcy was sat at the table, typing furiously away on his laptop, a few slices of half finished pizza next to him. His brow was furrowed occasionally, but sometimes she caught the glimpse of a smile as he read something from the screen. It changed him completely, washing away the marble just for a second before the frown returned. There was a sadness about him as well, Lizzy observed. That same look as when he'd cast his eyes on George was present, but more regularly. It annoyed her no end that she knew she wanted to know more.

After she'd finished eating, she stood up to explore a little. Her eye had caught a grand bookcase earlier, the size of an entire wall of the suite, and she began to peruse, stopping every now and then to pull a title of the shelf. Just as she had picked out something to sit quietly with on the sofa, she felt Charlie's presence next to her.

"Darcy insists on it," Charlie whispered to her. "Everywhere we go, he has to have a massive bookshelf fully stocked. Says it relaxes him when he's working. Money goes to peoples heads doesn't it…"

"I can hear you Charlie." Darcy said flatly, Charlie laughing loudly.

"Well it's true!" he exclaimed, leading Lizzy back to the sofa's, closer to Darcy. "It's like you think you're in a rock band with all these tour demands!"

"Yes, because so many rock bands demand books on tour," Darcy replied dryly. "Forget about the coke and smack…"

Charlie laughed again, before going quiet.

"I'm sure some bands take books with them," Lizzy couldn't help herself, feeling the need to spar. "Some artists are very literate."

"If you say so." Darcy muttered, turning back to his laptop, leaving Lizzy feeling angry at his rudeness and strangely disappointed at his reluctance to have any sort of debate. She could use some entertainment.

"Oh, you've done it now Elizabeth!" Caroline cackled out of nowhere, Lizzy didn't even realise she'd been listening. "You never insult books in front of Darcy."

"I wasn't insulting them at all!" Lizzy protested. "Reading is one of my favourite hobbies."

"What do you make of that then Darcy?" Caroline asked slyly. "Does it endear you to Elizabeth here to know that she is a grifter who appreciates the written word as you do?"

Darcy only briefly glanced up, shooting Caroline an inscrutable look before promptly ignoring her and going back to his laptop.

"I'm not a great reader myself," Charlie said jovially, seemingly oblivious to any tension in the room. "Life's so full these days that it is hard to find the time to sit quietly for an hour. I would get quite distracted."

"It's nothing to boast about Charlie," Darcy spoke up again, his tone superior as always. "Reading enriches the mind, knowledge makes you a better human being all round. It can even make you a better grifter. Better than some of the useless ones I see around these days."

"Oh nonsense Darcy," Charlie grinned. "I must say I don't know how the modern grifter does it these days. They have to be so good at everything."

"I can only think of about five names that I would class as a true con artist." Darcy shot back.

"And what in your opinion constitutes a 'con artist' then Darcy?" Lizzy asked, her tone betraying a slight mocking.

"Oh, here we go…." Caroline groaned, causing Charlie to laugh again. He did that a lot.

Darcy sighed and leant back in his chair, looking directly at Lizzy. She felt a slight shudder at his appraisal.

"The true con artist has to be the smartest person in the room at all times. They have to be arrogant and daring, bold and innovative. They have to be able to walk away at a moments notice. Well read, fluent in several languages, a passable knowledge of every aspect of business and the arts, technologically savvy, always keeping up with the latest advancements, adaptable. Meticulous, always one step ahead, always in control of everything around them. At once the most memorable and forgettable person in the room. We are conductors in our own orchestra, everyone around us is the instruments. They have to sing to our tune."

Silence met his short speech. For the first time, Elizabeth believed she really _saw_ Will Darcy. Saw how he could in fact be a legend of the game. His eyes seemed to come alive with every word as he spoke them, his commitment to them absolute. However, she couldn't help but laugh a little at him. I mean, come on….

"I'm surprised you can think of five names who fit that description," Lizzy broke the quiet. "I have certainly never known any such grifter. It's a wonder any can exist at all."

"Well, we do move in different circles Lizzy dear." Caroline patronised snidely.

"You're not wrong." Lizzy muttered, by no means taking it as the insult it was meant to be. She actually liked her friends.

"Besides," Caroline continued. "There is no doubt that the game is becoming weaker. No-one plays the long con anymore, outside of the Ton of course."

"They don't because they can't." Darcy fired.

Lizzy snorted. The Ton was the informal nickname, given to them by the fraud squad, of the elitist criminals in the country. The gentlemen thieves if you like, all tuxedoes and Rolex's. It wasn't an organisation so to speak, just an umbrella under which crews like Darcy's were referred to as. They were well known as snobs, closed off to anyone who wasn't wealthy and connected.

"Or maybe they are just not presented with the opportunity to do so," Lizzy felt the anger well up at the patronising of these upper crust wankers. "I know plenty of talented grifters who find doors constantly shut on them."

Darcy studied her again before surprising her with a conciliatory nod. The room went quiet again, the silence broken only by the tapping of Darcy's keyboard.

* * *

"What are you doing anyway Darcy?" Caroline called out, Lizzy didn't miss the small sigh that escaped Darcy's lips at the interruption. Grinned inwardly.

"I'm writing to Georgiana."

Lizzy couldn't miss the change in the room. It was tenser than ever before at the mention of this Georgiana. She wondered who she was, a girlfriend perhaps? She couldn't see it. But she couldn't miss the way even Charlie's ever present smile slipped a little.

"Oh, do tell her I miss her dearly." Caroline cried dramatically.

"I do not think I shall have the space." Darcy said, causing Caroline to deflate.

"How is she Will?" Charlie asked quietly.

"As well as can be expected." he shifted in his chair, obviously keen to get off the subject.

Every curious bone in her body was screaming at her to ask questions, but she knew it would be impertinent. They weren't friends, they obviously didn't like each other, so why the hell would he give her any form of answer. She would let him have his secrets. She didn't care that much anyway…

"Good, god I'm bored," Caroline's obnoxious tones again interrupted the room. "Lizzy what do you say we try out this pool table that Charlie insisted on having put in?"

"And I'm the one with the excessive demands….." Darcy chided.

Again, Caroline had surprised her. I mean, come on, Caroline on a pool table? Surely such things were beneath her?

"Why don't you join us Darcy?" Caroline attempted to flirt, and suddenly her motivations became clearer. She probably wanted him to do that thing where he stood behind her and lined up the shot with her. How sickening.

"I think that would defeat the purpose." Darcy responded.

"How so?" Caroline batted her eyelids at him.

Darcy sighed again and finally looked up from his laptop.

"Either you want some alone time with Elizabeth to talk about confidential things, in which case I will be in the way, or you're attempting to draw our attention with your um… _posture_. If that is the case then I can admire you better from here."

Charlie laughed loudly before standing up to go and check on Jane. Even Hurst let out a small grunt, although that may well have just been a snore. Had Will Darcy just shown some personality? Lizzy didn't think so. By his tone of voice, it was clear that he was just calling Caroline out on her shallow attention seeking ways. She, of course, choose to see it in a different light.

"You pig William!" she flirted. "Whatever should we do with him Elizabeth darling? He must be punished for such misogynistic remarks."

It seemed Caroline was quite the feminist, Lizzy snorted to herself sarcastically. Nevertheless, she weighed her words while she racked up the balls into the triangle, gesturing at Caroline to break off.

"We should tease him." Lizzy pondered, her eyes on Darcy, his looking back at her.

"Oh, that's no good!" Caroline said adoringly. "Darcy is not to be teased, there is nothing about him to laugh at whatsoever."

"Is that so Will?" Lizzy asked, saw his eyes flicker with something at the first use of his first name escaping from her lips. "Is there nothing to be laughed with? No flaw?"

"Everybody is flawed," Darcy conceded in a serious tone. "I just try to minimise mine as much as possible. It's what allows me to be a very successful grifter."

"So, vanity then?" Lizzy grinned, enjoying seeing Caroline's smile slip out of the corner of her eye. The conversation was obviously turning a different way to how she intended it to. Darcy however, kept his eyes firmly on hers before arguing back.

"I do not believe myself to be a particularly vain individual," he replied slowly, as if carefully considering every word. "I am proud of what I have achieved, no doubt about it. I do not think it is vanity if it is earned. No, perhaps I am too quick to temper on occasion, and I am unwilling to forgive as readily as others. My good opinion if lost is lost forever."

Lizzy considered him for a moment, his serious expression peering at her with the glow of his laptop screen lighting his face as if it was artificial. She thought again to the meeting with George, the rage in his eyes and wondered if he was thinking about the same thing.

"That is indeed a flaw Darcy," she replied after a while. "Forgiveness is what makes us human."

"That may be so," he inclined his head. "But everyone has a thing don't they? Everyone has that one aspect of character that they recognise as flawed but can't do anything about. It is just how it is I suppose."

"The thing is, everyone in life will disappoint you at some point, whatever their intentions. So, your flaw is that you eventually come to hate everyone?" Lizzy challenged.

"And perhaps yours is that you wilfully misunderstand them." he smiled at her for perhaps the first time, before dropping his gaze to his computer. Lizzy thought she saw a slight tinge of colour in his cheeks.

Louisa coughed, and Lizzy was pulled out of her bubble. She had forgotten the others were even there if truth be told. She glanced around her slightly embarrassed.

"I'm going to check on Jane." she muttered before fleeing, the game of pool forgotten and the challenge in Darcy's eyes still filling her mind.

She missed the way Caroline was glancing between the two of them, her retreating form and Darcy's occupied face, a frown beginning to form.

* * *

 **A/N. Hello all. Drop a review if you have time. If you have other things to do, please go and do them. They are undoubtedly more important.**


	7. The Convincer

She woke up in soft, unfamiliar surroundings. Sighed contently before lazily sitting up. It came back to her then, the events of the previous night. Jane getting pissed, Darcy helping her cover it up, the excruciating evening spent in the company of Charlie's friends. She cringed just thinking about it. Fucking Darcy. She pulled the covers off slowly, standing up from the bed and stretching, letting out a deep yawn. Looked at the clock and saw that it was early, just gone 6. Hopefully she could sneak some breakfast and slip into Jane's room before facing anybody. Pulled on yesterdays jeans to go with her tank top and snuck out of the room as quiet as a mouse. Made her way down the corridor, God this hotel suite was massive, before hearing a muffled voice. As she entered the main area, she saw Darcy's back, already dressed crisply and a phone pressed to his ear.

"No, it's no problem but I may need you in London next week is all…" he was saying. A floorboard creaked underneath her tread, and he span round to face her. His expression went from surprise to it's normal mask in a matter of milliseconds. "Look, I'll speak to you later. Charlie is very keen to meet you."

He hung up, eyes still on her. She held his gaze for a moment before moving towards the table.

"Sorry to interrupt." she said, eyes seeking out food.

"No problem. A potential contact for Charlie."

"The recruiting not going so well then?" she attempted to make conversation as she helped herself to a bowl of cereal.

"It's a long process," he turned his back to her. "Everything has to be right. And I feel a certain responsibility to make sure he's set up properly."

"He's a big boy Darcy." she said, moving to sit opposite him.

He surprised her by laughing softly.

"I know, I know. I'm probably being a little overbearing. It is hard to walk away from the game, but I am beginning to realise it's even harder to walk away from my friends."

Lizzy masked her shock at him talking so openly and emotionally. It was almost like he was a real and pleasant human being.

"So, why walk away then?" she asked idly, and she knew as soon as she said it that she had made a mistake. His expression turned back to icy indifference and he broke her gaze.

"That is my business." he said, opening his paper and hiding behind it.

So much for pleasant.

She finished her breakfast in silence only broken by the rustling of Darcy's newspaper. Caroline emerged after a while, nodding a greeting as she wiped the sleep from her eyes. Darcy didn't acknowledge her and she saw the way Caroline glanced at him before switching on the TV. Evidently not a morning person. Eventually she made her excuses and went to check on Jane, hoping to find her sister awake and ready to get out of this nightmare. As she approached Jane's door, she heard the unmistakable sound of Charlie's laughter from behind it. Opened the door to find him sitting close to the bed and Jane sat up giggling away.

"Lizzy!" Charlie greeted as he saw her enter. "Jane was just telling me about yours and Darcy's deception! Sickness bug indeed…"

"Sorry Lizzy, you know I'm an awful liar." Jane said, pink in the face.

"You told him?" she chuckled. "Sorry Charlie, Jane was quite embarrassed see…."

"Lizzy!" Jane admonished, hiding her head in her hands.

"Oh don't be ridiculous Jane," Charlie pulled her hands away from her face, Lizzy noticed how the contact lingered. "None of us here are in any position to judge about getting a little bit drunk! I've had many embarrassing moments, shit even Darcy has had his fair share."

"Darcy?" Lizzy said sceptically. Couldn't imagine that man ever having any form of fun.

"Oh yes," Charlie nodded amusedly. "Back in the day Darcy was quite the wild child, before I met him though. Occasionally Richard has a few glasses of wine and tells some very surprising tales indeed. And that's not to mention the stories George used to tell…"

Charlie stopped himself, and Lizzy could tell that he'd let something slip that he shouldn't. So George and Darcy had been friends once, that much was becoming evident. And Darcy, a wild child? Before she could follow up, Charlie had engaged Jane in conversation again. She move to sit on the other side of the bed and whiled away some time chatting to the two of them. It turned out that Charlie had fallen asleep on the chair in Jane's room the night before and stayed there all night. Lizzy pointed out that that was slightly creepy and Charlie agreed with a laugh, stressing it was not his intention. He couldn't keep his eyes off Jane, even with her make up free face and morning hair, and it was apparent that he was quite infatuated. Lizzy smiled softly at the two of them together, before awakening from her enjoyment by the worst of all sounds.

Frances.

"Jane dear!" she was shouting from behind the door "Jane?"

Jane looked at her in horror. Oh God, could it get any worse?

"Calm down mother!" she heard Lydia screech.

Yes. Yes it could.

* * *

Jane quickly got dressed as Lizzy and Charlie went out to meet Frances. Lizzy groaned in embarrassment as she saw Frances walking round the suite with Caroline exclaiming at the cost of it all. It should have been comical, normally Lizzy wouldn't give a shit what some posh snobs thought of her associates, but she just felt bad for Jane. Here was Frances, crowing about how lucky her 'daughter' was in front of Charlie's friends, with no thought for tact or propriety.

"What are you doing here Frances?" Lizzy grabbed her arm to announce her presence and leading her to the sofa where Lydia was lounging like she owned the place. Did feel a slight wave of amusement at the sight of Lydia so totally uninterested in her surroundings, as if she was here every day. But the look on Darcy's and Caroline's faces was enough to quell such feelings and make her squirm.

"I came to check on darling Jane of course!" Frances sat down. "When Lydia told me she was so unwell, I just had to rush over to check on the poor dear."

Lydia shot Lizzy a smirk. That bitch. She knew exactly what she was doing. This was the problem with Lydia, everything and everybody around her were just there to amuse her. She was the centre of the universe in her mind, nothing had a consequence or ramification. She scowled back, just causing Lydia to laugh lightly.

"Jane's fine, there was really no need. She'll be out in a minute…"

"Mr Bingley, how nice to see you again!" Frances ignored her. "Such an impressive suite. Must have cost a fortune I expect. You are doing very well for yourself indeed."

"I can't complain," Charlie replied, uneasily. His smile was still present, but it was more forced than she had ever seen it. "And lovely to see you again Mrs Bennet. You too Lydia."

"Sup Charlie boy?" Lydia saluted with a laugh. Lizzy saw Caroline roll her eyes at Darcy, who frowned back.

"Thank you so much for taking care of our Jane," Frances crowed on. "I knew she was in good hands when I heard. Who knows, maybe one day it could be a permanent arrangement…."

Fair play to Charlie, he dealt with it well, smiling and being polite as Lizzy curled up inside. It was excruciating and she kept her gaze firmly away from Caroline and Darcy. She knew she shouldn't feel embarrassed, shouldn't care what these people thought of her, but she couldn't help it. Her uneasiness was soothed when Jane came out of her room looking radiant and Charlie gave her such a blinding smile that the world seemed to stop around them. Of course Frances was capable of ruining any moment and sprang up to embrace Jane.

"Oh Janey, I've been so worried!" she half sobbed dramatically. "Don't you do that to your poor mother again!"

Lizzy saw Frances give Jane an obvious wink as if to say well done. She was pretty sure that Darcy caught it too, judging by his slight snort.

"Sit down mother, you'll over excite yourself." Jane led her back down.

"You see how sweet she is Mr Bingley! Worrying about her poor mother when she has been so ill."

"I'm fine now mother. It was unnecessary for you to come over…"

"I just had to Jane. Besides I hope you're well enough to attend dinner tonight. Did Lizzy tell you we have a very important guest coming?"

"Yes, she did. What was his name again?"

"Billy Collins," Frances replied, looking around the room as if she was expecting them to be impressed by her calibre of connections. "He works for Catherine De Bourgh, Mr Bingley, a very important man indeed."

"I'm sure he is." Charlie replied, and Lizzy was sure he was holding back a laugh.

"Yes, recently promoted to head of security at Rosings Park no less," Frances nodded importantly. "It's in Vegas you know. He's here on some very vital business for the lady herself."

"Well, I've heard Rosings is an impressive place," Charlie made the effort to humour Frances. "I've never been myself, but Darcy here knows it well."

"Is that so Mr Darcy?" Frances looked at him for the first time, oblivious to his defensive position. It was clear he couldn't stand her. "And how do you find it?"

"It is indeed most impressive," Darcy managed to force out. "Mr Collins must be an important man, Catherine is an old family friend and I know she doesn't suffer fools…"

Everyone else missed it, but Lizzy could have sworn there was the slightest hint of a smirk on his face, and Caroline had turned away, as if hiding her laughter. Any embarrassment she had felt was washed away by their rudeness. Yes Frances was ridiculous, but she was so obviously so that they should surely make allowances.

Lydia was clearly growing bored of all this conversation that didn't involve her, so she choose her moment to speak up.

"Tell you what Charlie, this would be a good spot for a party…" she said with the hint of suggestion. Lizzy couldn't help but laugh at the look of horror on Darcy's face, but it soon quelled when he brought his gaze on her. Was he always this fucking intense?

"Sorry." she muttered.

"Yeah you could have a DJ over there, a dance floor here.." Lydia was continuing.

"That's enough Lydia." Jane said sternly causing her to scowl but fall silent. She was always more inclined to listen to Jane than she was anyone else.

"I'm not sure about that, but my birthday is coming up in a couple of weeks," Charlie responded good naturedly. "We've organised a bit of a poker game here with some of our new friends in town, so you're all more than welcome to join us. They'll be another room with drinks and stuff, so yeah. All of you should come."

"Poker's boring," Lydia pouted, before a glare from Jane caused her to swerve. "But the party bit sounds good…"

"Will you come Jane?" Charlie asked, the hopefulness in his voice and his puppy dog eyes almost laughable.

"Of course," she blushed. "I won't be playing poker though, Lizzy here's the one who's good at it."

"I'll put your name down Lizzy!" Charlie exclaimed happily, although his eyes were still locked with Jane's. "I think your friend Charlotte is entering as well, I've heard she's quite the talent. Who knows, maybe we'll find someone who can finally beat Darcy here! The buy in is my shout for all so no need to worry."

Those words would seem patronising from anyone else, but Charlie was just so fucking genuine and nice that he could get away with it. If Darcy had said that, Lizzy would have been all sorts of angry. Speaking of, he didn't look too happy with the invitations being distributed. Something he wasn't in control of, Lizzy smirked to herself.

"I'm in." Lizzy nodded, sending Darcy a challenging look. He averted his gaze quickly.

"Excellent, excellent." Charlie clapped his hands.

"Oh Mr Bingley, thank you so much for the invitation!" Frances spoke loudly, "You must all come to dinner tonight as a thank you. You can meet Mr Collins himself!"

Again, it might have been her imagination, but she swore she saw Charlie take a quick glance at Darcy who gave him the barest of shake of the head. Maybe she was being paranoid, but something seemed a little off with it. The three of them, Charlie, Caroline and Darcy seemed to have their own language of the body that they communicated with. She shook herself, she was probably imagining things. Charlie however, did decline the invitation, saying something about an unavoidable business meeting. Lizzy knew it was time to get out of there before Frances and Lydia inflicted any more damage.

"Shall we get going then?" Lizzy asked Frances and her sisters.

"Um… I think Charlie and I were going to go out for some lunch…" Jane blushed, causing Lizzy to grin.

"Of course, you two lovebirds go and enjoy yourself!" Frances stood up quickly, ushering Lizzy and Lydia towards the door. Lizzy rolled her eyes again, and caught the frown on Caroline's face.

"Thank you for your hospitality Charlie," Lizzy called back. "And for your company Caroline, Darcy. Say goodbye to Hurst and Louisa for me."

Darcy moved to open the door for them, allowing Frances and Lydia to leave. For some reason, Lizzy paused at the door and looked at him, into those enigmatic grey eyes for a moment.

"It's no problem. See you soon," Darcy said stoically and she brushed against him slightly as she exited, causing a shock to run through her at the contact. "Goodbye Elizabeth, Ms Bennet, Mrs Bennet." he said and the door was shut.

"Oh, our Jane is doing very well indeed…." Frances harped on as they made their way to the lift.

* * *

"…..So, of course, that's when I got the idea for PathSafe, it was quite the moment of genius if I say so myself. A system that covers everything, from roulette to blackjack to the slots. All under a single umbrella if you will. I thank God everyday for the day the great Lady Catherine came into my life. She saw my potential straight away, say the talent of my programming. Of course, I was still a young man, still a little green much like your sweet, sweet daughters are now I imagine. But that's what set me apart from the others, the willingness to learn. That's where her Ladyship did me the greatest honour. She said, look, I like your system, I think it could be a revolutionary thing, but without the right backing, you will go nowhere. She offered me a spot on the Rosings security team straight away, in exchange for my invention. A remarkably generous offer. Some snide and jealous people have said that she ripped me off, but I ask how many of them have been inducted to the golden circle as I like to call it? How many of them have had the honour of observing the most successful casino in the world and the greatest businesswoman that lives on a day to day basis? And my nouse and patience have paid off friends! I now hold the title of head of security at Rosings, reporting directly to her ladyship daily. She is a remarkable woman, and one whose character cannot be besmirched. And of course, it has all led me to this happy occasion, meeting the man my father told so much about and his family. I hope one day that we will come to see each other as not just the greatest of friends, but also as family itself…"

Oh fucking hell, he was so boring, Lizzy groaned inwardly, taking a big sip from her merlot. Billy Collins had been everything she had feared he would be. Stuck up, pompous, superior, dangerously thick she thought, maybe even socially inept. She glanced at Tommo across the table who had a glint in his eye, most amused by the man opposite him.

"You honour us Mr Collins with such presumptions…" he twinkled, a backward compliment if Lizzy had ever heard one, not that Collins was going to pick up on it.

"Lovely Mr Collins, just lovely!" Frances squealed, she had taken to him immediately, obviously.

"Please, please, call me Billy." Collins raised his glass. God, he actually thought he sounded like James Bond. She nudged Lydia with her thigh under the table, who smirked back.

"To Billy boy!" Lydia cried dramatically, choking through her own laughter. Frances shot her a disapproving look, but everyone raised their glass and clinked them. Even Jane was struggling to keep it together, and she could normally keep stoic through the very worst of things. Collins looked extremely pleased with himself, the sweat dripping from his receding hair. They'd had soup for a starter and Lizzy could see the remnants and stains pock marking his shirt. Disgusting.

She was being harsh, she knew that. He was a bit of a prick, but a mostly harmless one. And he had undoubtedly done very well for himself. Rosings Park was one of the premier Vegas casinos. However, the next turn of conversation sent shivers through her spine.

"Oh, I hope one day to see my girls settled with such a patron as your Lady Catherine Billy." Frances crowed.

"There are no such patrons around Frances!" Billy exclaimed. "Her ladyship is the most giving and generous human being I know! Considering the importance of her position, it is quite a remarkable thing. However, I may be able to help in a small way. You see, with my new position has come certain perks, one of which is that I hire my own staff, and I am in need of a new PA. Of course, it would be hard work, and undoubtedly your girls lack many of the required skills and manners being short con players and thieves, but with a bit of polish, I believe I can pull some strings. It would be eldest first of course…"

He leered slightly at Jane, causing Lizzy to change that harmless assessment, who looked like a deer caught in the headlights. Frances looked uneasily between them, obviously weighing up the pros and cons. Jane was being shown attention by Charles Bingley, a more exciting and wealthy man, so her decision was a quick one.

"Well Billy, you see, Jane is about to be set up with a certain Mr Bingley's crew see, so her future is secure with him,"

Lizzy could see Jane was about to argue the point, in no way did she expect to be recruited by Charlie, she wasn't in it for that anymore. Lizzy caught her eye and shook her head, it was a get out of jail free card for her, just accept Frances' ridiculousness for now. As she was doing this Lizzy realised that she was literally leaping in front of the bullet…..

"But my Lizzy here could be a viable option! She has all the skills needed and it's high time she moved up in the world."

Lizzy winced at the words, more than ready to argue back. However, Tommo shook his head with a smile as if to again say it's not worth it. She didn't want to alienate Frances completely and she could go along with this for a bit. But she would not encourage it, she wouldn't go anywhere with this man. And PA? Are you fucking kidding?

"Sweet Elizabeth eh?" Collins smiled. It was creepy. "Yes, yes, that could work indeed…"

"Yeah, I think you'd be well good at that Lizzy…" Lydia piped up with that smirk. Lizzy trod on her foot under the table.

"Hey!"

"Enough about work eh Billy?" Tommo raised his voice. "Plenty of time for that later. What say you tell us more about this Lady Catherine…."

And so it went on and on and on and on and on.

And on.


	8. Ponzi

Lizzy and Jane went back to work. They'd been too distracted for the last couple of weeks, Jane by Charlie and Lizzy by everything else. It was frustrating. Lizzy truly believed she was ready to step up her game, she was aware she was still a little green, but she knew that with the right direction and the right people she could go far. Much farther than this, she thought, after a day playing The Badger with fellow Bennets Mark and Paul. The Badger was a simple scam. One of them, usually Mark, played the role of a pimp, approaching a married man who looked like a mark and tempting him into an illicit affair with a woman, in this case Lizzy. They went upstairs to a room, began 'relations' and then before it got too far Paul would burst in, claiming to be a cop or private investigator. You would then threaten to expose the liaison to their spouse, unless the mark handed over cash. It was a grubby scam, and Lizzy didn't like it one bit, but it was a remarkably successful con, even in this day and age. They could easily make around four thousand on a good day. The money didn't help Lizzy sleep at night however. She knew some girls who wouldn't play it at all, but Lizzy saw it as a necessary evil. Jane and Kitty were working the Pigeon across the city, and Lydia, well who knows what Lydia was doing.

She was better than this, she often thought. Scraping a living with grimy little scams. The problem was that the lack of ambition around her was stifling. She loved Jane dearly but she appeared quite content with how things were. Ditto Lydia, Kitty, Mark and Paul. And as much as Charlotte Lucas was her best friend, she knew she didn't have the talent. Lizzy just didn't have the contacts to try to set something up. It was the years of the insular Bennet crew haunting her. She was aware she wouldn't ever be taken seriously by people like Darcy, even Charlie, unless she changed her ways. But she couldn't see a way out of it, not right now anyway.

Through the week, her mind kept going back to Darcy and the evening spent in his company. She was looking forward to the poker game in a weeks time, it would be nice to try to get one over on him. But even these thoughts were plagued with doubt. Just why did she care so much? What was it about this fucking guy that made her want to beat him so desperately? Maybe she was trying to prove herself to him, but that went against all her principles. Fuck Darcy, fuck Caroline. This was her city. And one day she'd have it all.

Her mood was worsened by the ever lingering presence of Billy Collins. At least he had such 'important' things to do during the day, but the evenings became a constant battle of hide and seek. Her flat wasn't even safe, Frances had given up that location. Every bar she went to, every party, everything, he was always there, with that stupid briefcase handcuffed to his wrist. He took it everywhere with him, apparently it contained his life's work or something. It just made him look more of a twat. She wasn't threatened by his slightly creepy behaviour, he was after all pretty harmless if you could look past the occasional leer. And she wasn't risking completely alienating the bloke yet, if word got back to Frances then there would be hell to pay. It wasn't worth it. But it was embarrassing, having to introduce him to friends and fellow grifters. And if she heard one more story about Lady fucking Catherine she was pretty sure she'd crack.

Tonight though, her spirits were higher than normal. It had been a while since she'd been at the card table, so her and Charlotte had decided to get some practice in before the big night. Charlotte was a good poker player, she could often clean up on nights such as the one they were going to tonight, located in the backroom of the hallowed Jack Hammer, a regular watering hole for grifters in North London. It even had a dance floor. Charlotte and Lizzy were about the same level of card player. She didn't know who else would be there tonight, but she had been promised it would be a challenging field. One thousand buy in, ten thousand pot. Not bad for a nights work. It could be a long one though, these games had been known to go right past the early hours and into the next day. Lizzy was rusty, but quietly confident.

* * *

"What's up sis?" Lizzy heard from behind her a few hours later as she leaned at the bar of the Jack Hammer, trying to order a beer.

"Lydia," she sighed. "What the fuck are you doing here? You don't even play."

"God, poker is such a fucking bore," Lydia grumbled, before brightening up. "But Denny's in the game so I said I'd come along for support. Hopefully he'll go out early and we can just get trashed…."

Denny, Lizzy thought. So much for a strong field…..

"Jesus Christ, can I not have one evening of peace?" Lizzy moaned, only causing Lydia to giggle.

"Ah, brighten up Liz! Oh, there's Denny. Catch you later. Good luck."

Lydia kissed her sloppily on the cheek and disappeared into the throng, it was a Friday night and the place was pretty fully.

"Be careful Lyds you stupid…" Lizzy shouted after her. She wished she didn't feel a responsibility to Lydia, she really did. But the girl just drew you in. Even if you hated her, and Lizzy often did, there was something about her that made you want to take care of her. God, she was a manipulative so and so.

"Bennet." Lizzy looked up to see Charlotte leant next to her, already with a beer in hand.

"Lucas." Lizzy nodded solemnly.

There was a pause before they both burst out laughing and embraced as old friends.

"So, how have you been, kid?" Charlotte asked. "I've barely seen you the last couple of weeks. All these cocktail parties and high fliers are changing you Lizzy…."

"Oh fuck off," Lizzy pushed her good naturedly. "I would be more than happy to never see Darcy and his band of merry men again. But obviously we have to take his money first."

"Obviously," Charlotte smirked. "You know who's in tonight?"

"No idea," Lizzy shrugged. "But hopefully it'll be a good workout."

"I'm taking your money tonight Bennet, so don't go crying about it alright?"

"We'll see, we'll see." Lizzy laughed, leading Charlotte over to a table in the corner that was vacant. It was nice to see her friend again, nice to see someone outside the Bennet crew. Someone she could talk to honestly and openly.

"So, come on then, spill," Charlotte leant on her elbows. "Just what is going on with Jane and that good looking rich boy?"

"You're such a gossip, Lucas," Lizzy admonished. "I think she really likes him Charlotte.."

"She shagged him yet?" Charlotte asked baldly.

"Charlotte! Come on they've only known each other a couple of weeks!"

"Since when did you become such a prude?" Charlotte smirked. "If Jane likes the boy she should just get the disappointment over with early."

"Who says it'll be a disappointment?"

"It's always a disappointment, Lizzy." Charlotte shook her head, and Lizzy burst out laughing.

"Well, you know Jane," Lizzy recovered. "She keeps it a bit close."

"That's her problem, Lizzy. God, I've known her for ages, longer than I've known you, and I still don't know what she's thinking most of the time. It can put people off you know."

"She's just a bit shy. Besides, she hasn't had the easiest of lives. None of us have…" Lizzy trailed off. They didn't like talking about the past, none of them did. But the fact was that the Bennets were all street kids, either orphans or the children of smack addicts who abandoned them. Most grew up in the system, the care homes of London. Some in the streets. It was something they didn't bring up. They wanted to forget.

"I know, Lizzy," Charlotte said softly. "But sometimes I think Jane could be a bit more open, especially in these situations. She can come off as a bit cold sometimes."

"We'll agree to disagree." Lizzy said, her tone betraying annoyance.

"Alright, alright!" Charlotte held her hands up. "I'm just saying…. Oh god, Lizzy, nine o'clock, some guy's coming over, he's looking at us, oh god he's dreadful. Is that a briefcase handcuffed to him? Help! Help!"

She knew who it was before she turned around.

Billy fucking Collins.

"Elizabeth," he greeted formally, taking her hand and kissing it. Urgh. Charlotte was close to falling apart opposite her. "I don't think we've been introduced…."

"Charlotte Lucas." she managed to choke out, but she couldn't help the laugh that escaped when he kissed her hand as well. Collins appeared to mistake it for girly flirtation.

"Billy Collins. A pleasure, Miss Lucas. Can I get either of you a drink?" he asked, Lizzy could see the sweat patches forming on his shirt and his forehead was already glistening.

"I'm fine thanks." Lizzy muttered.

"Large Merlot for me" Charlotte raised her glass with a smirk and Collins scuttled off, briefcase swinging from his wrist.

"What?" Charlotte laughed at Lizzy's expression. "It's a free drink, Bennet, Jesus. More importantly, how do you know that creep? And what's with the kinky handcuffs?"

"He takes it everywhere with him and he's another one of Frances' schemes," Lizzy sighed. "Works out in Vegas, head of security at Rosings Park…"

"That man is head of security at Rosing's Park?" Charlotte questioned incredulously. "How does Frances keep finding them?"

"What do you mean?"

"You know what a big deal that guy is right?" Charlotte asked. "Rosings is like one of the top casinos in Vegas! If I were you I'd be accepting his drink offers."

Lizzy laughed at her friends predatory nature.

"He wants me to work for him," Lizzy smirked. "As if."

"Why not Lizzy?" Charlotte narrowed her eyes.

"Because he's a fucking creep and seems to be dangerously stupid."

"So? He seems harmless enough. You could be working in Vegas, Lizzy, fucking Vegas! It's a grifters Mecca! And Rosings Park? You keep going on about how you want to move up and then when an opportunity comes around you turn your nose up at it, because what, the blokes not fit?"

Lizzy was surprised by her friends words, she'd assumed they could have a good laugh together about Collins.

"I'm not selling out myself like that." Lizzy replied a bit angrily.

"Talking to a brick wall," Charlotte sighed. "Have it your way, Lizzy, just don't complain to me when you and Jane are still trying to work The Badger in your fifties."

"Says the girl who's approaching thirty and still falling over car bonnets."

Lizzy leant back, letting a tense silence descend. Who did Charlotte think she was lecturing her like that? Collins came back to the table and attempted to engage Lizzy in conversation, but her one word answers soon diverted his attentions to Charlotte, who chatted happily with him. Fucking shark, Lizzy thought. Didn't she have any dignity? Charlotte was her best friend besides Jane, but right now she wanted to punch the girl. She was an average grifter anyway, Lizzy thought nastily, before checking herself. She wasn't going to go there.

Finally, they were called into the backroom. Charlotte grabbed her arm before they went in after managing to ditch Collins.

"Come on Liz, let's not fall out. I'm sorry alright?"

"It's fine," Lizzy smiled eventually, and it was. Charlotte was entitled to an opinion and Lizzy was entitle to disagree with it. It's how friendship worked. "May the best woman win."

Yeah, it was fine, but fuck if she didn't want to beat Charlotte Lucas hands down.

* * *

Her spirits rose when she saw the competition that was gathered in the smoky back room. There were some good players here, no doubt about it. The Swiss twins were both present, as were a couple of others Lizzy recognized. Denny looked like a scared child. Lydia would probably have her wish, Lizzy chuckled.

"Lizzy, you angel!" a booming voice shouted across the room, breaking the tension that always existing in the build up to these games. She looked over to see a heavy set man of around fifty years of age, shirt done up wrong so one side hung down more than the other, and the remnants of a packet of crisps all down him. Most prominent of all however, was the ridiculous monocle present on his left eye.

"Cyclops," Lizzy smiled in greeting, walking over and kissing him on the cheek. "You playing tonight?"

"Of course, can't miss the chance to make some easy money!" he exclaimed back in a loud voice, irritating most of the other players judging by their scowls.

"Don't count on it." she smirked.

Cyclops was a proper old school grifter. He'd never made it into the big leagues, his working class, East End mannerisms were too much for some people. But on street level, he was pretty much unmatched. He made his living these days as a fixer, a go to man if you wanted a safe cracked or an alarm disabled. He did well for himself as well, and amongst short con artists he was well respected. He was also a bloody good poker player.

"Does anyone mind if I smoke in here?" Cyclops gestured around, his presence filling the room. He lit one without waiting for a response. "Get in their heads early, Lizzy." he winked quietly at her and she laughed.

"You're incorrigible," Lizzy swatted him. "God it's good to be back amongst you lot."

"Been missing us, Bennet? I've heard you've been making quite the connections these days. Aren't you a bit big time for this little game….." he said slyly.

The few in the vicinity laughed, probably out of jealousy more than anything. She gave them the finger. They were welcome to hang out with Darcy in her place.

"Piss off Cyclops," she said, causing his jaw to wobble with a chuckle. "I've had enough of those rich fuckers, I'm telling you."

"Do tell." Cyclops leant in close, she could see herself reflected in his stupid monocle.

"Well, Charles Bingley's alright, and obviously he's completely in love with Jane.."

"But she said she'd wait for me!" Cyclops clutched his heart dramatically.

"Sorry mate," Lizzy grinned. "Anyway his sister's a stuck up bitch and Darcy's the most arrogant and unpleasant man I've ever had the misfortune of meeting."

"I knew you wouldn't like him." Cyclops laughed loudly.

"You know him?" Lizzy asked in surprise. Darcy was not the type of person to associate with someone like Cyclops.

"Not really," he admitted. "Met him a few times. Seemed alright to me, a little quiet, but still. He's Will fucking Darcy! The man's a genius, Lizzy, one of the best long con artists to play the game. And I emphasise the word _artist._ "

Lizzy snorted.

"I see you've really taken against the poor man," Cyclops chuckled at her reaction. "Maybe you're right, as I said, I don't really know him. His cousin's good people though, Richard. Yeah, me and The Colonel did a few jobs together when he was starting out."

"The Colonel?" Lizzy asked.

"His nickname. He claims that his first score was a change raise in KFC, hence The Colonel."

Lizzy laughed, already taking a liking to this Richard despite his connection to Darcy. The Colonel indeed. Clearly didn't take himself too seriously, unlike some people….

"Ladies and Gentlemen, take your seats, we will begin shortly."

"Good luck then, Bennet," Cyclops smirked. "I'll see you on the other side."

Lizzy smiled warmly before her mask went up, and she took her seat as the rules were explained and the first hands dealt.

* * *

"You've got to be kidding me."

"It's just the way the cookie crumbles, my dear." Cyclops grinned, raking in the chips.

It had all been going so well. As predicted, Denny went out obscenely early, going all in on a two pair hand, which Charlotte pounced on with a straight, something everyone round the table bar Denny had seen coming. Next to go was one of the Swiss twins who bluffed their way into a corner which they couldn't wriggle out from. Cyclops did the rest. Lizzy was slowly building up a decent amount of chips, still well behind Cyclops and Charlotte after their big wins early doors, but a reasonably commanding position. The thing about poker that a lot of people didn't understand was that the big hands came around so rarely. In all the films you see people with a straight, a flush, four of a kind, all in the same hand. It never happened in reality. Poker was the slow build, the fold was the most important aspect, knowing when to pull back, knowing when to push and not being obvious about when you were doing it. For around an hour, nothing of consequence happened, a couple of piles diminished and a couple of piles were stocked up, but nothing dramatic. Then Lizzy got the cards.

Pocket Kings.

A good start, but by no means unbeatable. She raised the pot slightly, but not obviously. Most called her, including Cyclops.

Then came the flop.

Ace of hearts, nine of spades, nine of clubs.

Two pair. Ok. This was getting promising. She held back on the next round of bets, only calling what she had to. Charlotte went in aggressive, but Lizzy had the feeling it was a bluff. She could afford to do it, she was comfortably in the lead and she was attempting to bully the others off the table. Worked with a couple, but Lizzy stayed firm.

The turn.

King of hearts.

Lizzy kept her cool façade up, but she was dancing on the inside. Full house. Three kings and two nines. She calculated it quickly as around a 90% success ratio, the cards weren't in any position for a straight flush, no chance of it. She couldn't lose this hand.

Cyclops raised. He was bluffing. His attention was on Charlotte, not her, the two biggest chip holders going toe to toe. As Lizzy expected, Charlotte quickly folded with a smile, as did everyone else around them. Suddenly it was just him and her. She had him, she knew that.

But she made a mistake.

Maybe it was the rustiness, maybe it was the frustration, maybe it was arrogance. Maybe it was Darcy in her fucking head again, that condescending tone belittling her and her friends.

She went all in.

"Call." Cyclops said immediately.

He could just about afford to lose it, but it was a strange move, and one that had Lizzy suddenly panicking. She calmed herself with the thought that the only chance of her losing was if that one card came up, and even then it was still unlikely. No, she had this, she had him by the balls.

The river.

Ace of diamonds.

The worst thing that could have happened. The only card that could see her lose. But still, the odds were at 80%. She wasn't going lose.

But then she saw Cyclops smirk. He turned over his cards.

Pocket aces.

"You've got to be kidding me."

"It's the way the cookie crumbles my dear."

She just sat there for a moment, absolutely stunned. She'd gone out within two hours. This was supposed to be her warm up, this was supposed to be a game that she could comfortably reach the final stages of. And yet, here she was, beaten by a fucking four of a kind on the river after going all in. It was embarrassing. She stood up without a word and stormed out of the room.

"It's been a pleasure as always Lizzy!" Cyclops called out mockingly.

* * *

She sat on the barstool absolutely fuming. Fucking Cyclops. She attempted to console herself with the fact that he had got unbelievably lucky, she had made the right move. Most of the time it would have paid off and she'd still be sat there, with Cyclops scrambling around for chips. But it was no use. She was annoyed at herself, she shouldn't have gone all in ,shouldn't have left herself that vulnerable. Poker was a marathon, not a sprint. She'd got carried away, she'd fucked up. Collins attempted to sidle over, but one look from Lizzy was enough to send him scampering back to whatever corner he was perving from.

"Jesus, you out already Lizzy?" Lydia laughed, pulling up a stool next to her.

"I don't want to talk about it." Lizzy shot back, her tone leaving no doubt that she wanted to be left alone to get drunk.

"Poker's boring anyway mate! Sitting in a room with those boring fuckers!" Lydia said, and bless her for it. Somehow, it cheered Lizzy up immensely. That was the contradiction of her relationship with Lydia. She was the one who could cheer her up better than anyone else. She was also the one who could infuriate her more than anyone else.

"Maybe you're right." Lizzy conceded.

"Of course I am!" Lydia half shouted. "Kirsty, Kirsty! Send four Sir Samuel Bucas down this way will you?"

"Lydia…" Lizzy grinned.

"Oh come on sis, don't be so fucking boring! Let's get trashed and forget all about those stupid cards! Come on let's dance."

"What about the sambuca?" Lizzy asked, amused.

"Good point," Lydia said, knocking her two back in seconds without the slightest of grimaces. "Your turn!"

Lizzy hesitated before thinking fuck it, why not? She might as well try to have a good time. And if there was one thing that Lydia knew how to do, it was have a good time. She winced as the first shot went down, she'd never been too good with sambuca, but the second was better. She washed it down with her bottle of beer before Lydia grabbed her hand and led her to the packed, pathetic excuse for a dance floor. She moved to the music, her inhibitions dampened by the alcohol and the attitude Lydia had managed to instil in her tonight.

They danced and had fun, Lydia's infectious attitude rubbing off on her. Kitty joined them soon after and the three sisters just enjoyed themselves for a while. Of course, Lydia being Lydia got bored quickly enough and went to grind on poor Denny, who didn't know what was going on. Lizzy laughed at his confused face, before she felt a hand on her shoulder.

"Well, well, well," the familiar voice said. "Sold anymore violins lately Lizzy?"

She turned round with a smile.

"Old man George Wickham himself."

* * *

"You cancelled on me you little shit!" Lizzy said as she sat down next to him after a little dance, half joking, but half serious. "Is that how you treat all the girls?"

"What do you mean?" George said, looking confused. "Yes, I had to cancel that afternoon, I had a job in Manchester, but I asked Lydia to see if you wanted to meet up in the week. I gave her my number to give to you and everything. You were the one who didn't call, I just assumed you weren't interested."

"Fucking Lydia," Lizzy sighed, slightly annoyed. "She probably just forgot, she's always doing that."

"So, would you have phoned me?" George asked, a twinkle in his eye. He looked good tonight. Skinny but not too skinny black levis and a smart enough button down. Not Darcy smart, no, smart casual. It showed off his arms as well….

"I might of…." Lizzy smirked, taking a sip from the beer he had bought her. She wasn't drunk, but she was slightly tipsy thanks to the sambucas. She'd probably be hung-over tomorrow but right now she didn't care.

George laughed loudly.

"Hey, I'll take that! So what have you been up to anyway?" he leaned closer to her, his bright eyes and smile putting her at ease.

"Oh you know, work," she replied. "And fucking awful cocktail parties with your old mate Darcy."

She saw him falter a little at the mention of Darcy and he drew away from her. She probably shouldn't have brought it up, they were having a good time. But she was too curious, had been ever since the day of their awkward exchange. George recovered reasonably quickly which was a good sign.

"I wouldn't really describe me and Darcy as mates." he laughed good naturedly.

"But you were once?" Lizzy probed.

"Maybe," George evaded, clearly uncomfortable with this line of enquiry. "What's got you so curious anyway? You have a thing for him Lizzy?"

"Fuck no!" Lizzy almost shouted. "He's a fucking dickhead! Insufferable, arrogant, superior, arsehole!"

"Good, we're on the same page then," George laughed. "He say anything about me?"

"No, none of them did really. Charlie said something about you having some stories about Darcy's wild child days but he stopped pretty quickly. I get the sense that they don't like to talk about you at all…." Lizzy trailed off.

"I guess they probably wouldn't." George said with a hint of sadness.

"Come on then!" Lizzy ran out of patience. "What's the story with you lot?"

George leant back and was quiet for a few seconds, just studying her. She could see the conflict in his eyes, whether to tell her or not. A little bit of her brain was asking her why exactly she was so curious, but she pushed it back.

George sighed, his eyes glazing over for a while.

"Ok, so I'll tell you. I warn you, it doesn't cast me in the most positive light in parts. I have made mistakes, and I made a lot of them when I was younger.

So, I first met Will about eight years ago. I was 19, he was 21 I think. He'd just lost his father and he was really cut up. Like, really badly. He saw me in a casino counting cards if I remember correctly … anyway, it doesn't really matter. We became friends, the very best. In those days, he wasn't this mythical long con player who stole the Crown Jewels or whatever bullshit they say about him these days. Nah, he was just plain old messed up Will Darcy, a closeted orphan, a rich boy who'd been sheltered from the game his whole life but was in thrall to it. You know when you watch those gangster films and there's always the big bosses son who's trying to hang out with the street level players? Yeah that was Will. He wanted to be one of us, wanted more than anything to be respected as a grifter, but no-one took him seriously enough. He was just Will, the kid hanging around at all the right spots, making all the right noises, but never actually doing anything.

I felt sorry for him, I think. Yeah, maybe that was it. I saw that he was trying to be something he wasn't, but aren't we all? Isn't that what con men spend their lives doing? Why should he be any different, I thought. And I must admit, initially I saw the opening. I was a short con player, deadbeat for a Dad and Mother who didn't even want her own son, and here was this kid who could get me into the high life, could open doors for me that I could never have found myself. So, yeah I was using him. But he was using me as well.

Anyway, we became friends, and pretty soon it was real. I genuinely loved him like a brother. We ran the streets together, I taught him The Badger, The Pigeon, even The Fiddle, although I never had the balls to use it like you! It was all good for a while, but their were warning signs. It may be difficult to believe now when you interact with him and see his cold, stone like personality, but in those days he was wild. Fucking _wild._ I mean, so messed up it was unreal. That's the thing about rich kids isn't it, they're always fucked up. Fights and drink and drugs, every cliché. But he was endangering himself and endangering me, I genuinely think he had a death wish at that point. I tried and tried, but I couldn't get through to him. I blamed myself, and still do. I was the one who brought him into all this. Me. And I couldn't bring him out.

I began to drift away from him, I couldn't take it anymore. If he'd stayed the way he was he would have ended up at best in prison, at worst dead in a ditch. Maybe I should have done more. But I was twenty one, I was selfish. No, I was. He was my friend and I abandoned him. That's on me.

We didn't speak in about a year, and then out of nowhere I got the call. Somehow he'd cleaned up his act and was putting a crew together, wanted to play the long con. Charlie Bingley was going to be his roper, Caroline Bingley was the bank, and his cousin Richard was going to be the fixer. Will was the leader, the planner. He wanted me to join them, work as the inside man. I was unsure at first, but when I met them all together, everything just clicked into place. I mean, they were brilliant. Meticulous, clever, ingenious, bold, arrogant, everything a crew should be. Well, you've heard the stories."

"They're just stories though aren't they." Lizzy scoffed.

"Some are of course. Certainly Darcy's myth has been grossly exaggerated. He has skills, no doubt, a good brain for grifting, but it's his crew and a good slice of old fashioned luck that make him what he is. Anyway, when I saw him again, I couldn't believe the transformation, and I was so happy. Here was the friend I knew he was capable of being way back when, and more. I was excited, we all were. We got to know each other, worked a few trial runs together, and it was perfect. The chemistry, everything. This was it, my chance! I was going to have the world, and I was going to have it with my friends."

"So, what went wrong?" Lizzy asked.

"Darcy. Our first big score, we took an art dealer for £250000. _£250000_! Can you imagine? Then it came time to divvy up the money. We'd agreed back at the start on an even split of all earnings, with 50k going in the pot for future work. So we were supposed to get £40000 each. Only Will wouldn't give it to us, any of us. He went back on the agreement, said he'd be taking care of the money and that we should just trust him. I remember being in the room when that conversation took place. Caroline put up some feeble defence, said we'd agreed something different, but she backed down. Richard never went against Will, and Charlie was too in awe of him. Seems like he still is. So, it was left to me. I did the work, I wanted to get paid. We had an agreement. We had a furious argument and we were truly awful to each other. I take my share of the blame here as well, I said some things I shouldn't have, but then again so did he. So he kicked me out. Told me to never come back again."

"What, he kicked you out his crew just because you asked for what was agreed on?" Lizzy said, shocked.

"Yes he did. But it doesn't end there, and this is the part I am most ashamed of. I still had access to the bank account see, he didn't have time to change it. So I took my share, but I took Will's as well. I left the others alone, it wasn't their fault, but still, I should never have done it. Whatever that man did to me, I should have been the bigger person."

"Why didn't you tell anyone?" Lizzy asked, incredulously. "People talk about him like he's God's fucking gift, everybody does, when all he is is a fucking cheat?"

"We're all cheats, Lizzy," George laughed. "We're grifters remember?"

"Still, there's a code!" Lizzy fumed.

"I didn't tell anyone for two reasons. First, because I still love the man. Whatever has happened, whatever he did, he was my brother once. We grifted together. Loyalty means something to me, unlike him. And second, because of Georgiana…"

"Who's this Georgiana?" Lizzy asked, another question about to be answered.

"Georgiana is Will's sister," George revealed. "A sweet girl, or at least she used to be when I knew her. I got close to her when me and Will were still friends. She was so young when their parents died, nine years old….. Anyway, Will obviously became her legal guardian, a job he didn't exactly shine in. To be fair to him, he was twenty one years old, he was grieving, he'd lost his Dads casino to Catherine, not that he knew it at the time…."

"Catherine De Bourgh?" Lizzy questioned, shocked at the coincidence.

"Yeah, that's the one," George said in surprise. "You know her?"

"No, but her head of security at Rosings Park is a family friend, Billy Collins. He's around here somewhere, the slimy little shit…."

"Do you like anyone Lizzy?" George teased her and she took it in her stride.

"Not really." she joked back.

"Fair enough. Anyway, yeah, Catherine got Will to sign over the deed to the casino, Pemberley, just after his parents died. A proper shark that woman, apparently said it was a distraction he didn't need while he was grieving and looking after Georgiana. In reality of course, she just wanted the casino."

"Darcy said she was an old family friend." Lizzy stated, slightly confused. It didn't sound like a friendly relationship.

"Oh, he keeps up appearances. He runs Pemberley these days, under Catherine of course, but my guess is he's still pretty bitter about the whole thing. Rumour is he's marrying her daughter in exchange for ownership of Pemberley."

"He's getting married for a building?" Lizzy said in disgust. "God, he just gets worse."

"Don't be too hard on him," George sighed sadly. "I mean, he has been through a fair bit."

"People shouldn't use their past as an excuse," Lizzy grumbled. "Anyway, how the fuck do you stay so nice about him? He ruined your career!"

"He did," George nodded. "But there's no use in being angry about it. It's just the way the cards are dealt, as you've seen tonight."

"You had to bring that up didn't you?" Lizzy said, faux angrily. "So, his sister then…"

"Yes, of course. Georgiana was like a sister to me and truth be told I was more of a carer to her than Will ever was. I went to her school plays, I helped her with her homework while Will was out fucking or fighting or whatever he was doing. I still saw her when I moved away from Will's craziness. She liked the company of someone who wasn't employed to look after her I think. But obviously, when me and Will fell out the second time, he put an end to that as well. I haven't seen the girl for years."

"He just gets worse!" Lizzy threw her hands up, her mannerisms probably exaggerated because of the alcohol.

"That's the part I struggle with," George nodded. "You know, fuck my career and all that in the end, she was more important to me and it broke my heart. Still does I suppose…"

Lizzy felt a wave of sympathy for him. She also felt a certain pride. Here was a man who had lost everything through no real fault of his own, yet refused to become bitter and twisted, refused to let it define him. A decent man who'd fell in with the wrong people and yes, made his own mistakes, but owned them thoroughly and attempted to move past it all.

"That poor girl as well," Lizzy said sadly after a while. "Do you know what she's doing now?"

George looked at her in surprise.

"What, you mean you don't know?"

"Know what?" she asked, brow furrowed.

George cast his eyes down.

"Georgiana Darcy's in prison."

* * *

 **A/N - Well, I'm racing through this now, aren't I? Let me know what you think.**


	9. The Big Mitt

"Come on, Lizzy! Are you so determined to think the worst of him? " Jane was saying a few days later over a post work drink. "I can't believe that that is the only side to it."

Lizzy rolled her eyes. Now Jane as well? What was it about fucking Darcy that had literally everyone falling over themselves. Cyclops, Jane, all of them. Here she was, giving the evidence about how much of a prick he was and still no-one wanted to believe it.

"I'm just repeating what George said," she pointed out. "He went against grifter code Jane! And worse, he did it to a friend, a friend who looked after his poor sister whilst he was out feeling sorry for himself!"

"George just told you all this did he?" Jane narrowed her eyes. "You barely know the bloke, Lizzy. He's a self proclaimed short con artist, a twenty eight year old bloke who we met while he was hanging out with sixteen year olds. Doesn't seem to me like the sort of guy you don't take without a pinch of salt…."

Lizzy huffed angrily, now keen to change the subject. She had arguments back, but she didn't want to fall out with Jane. She seemed to be managing to offend her friends at every corner these days, and she wasn't keen to add Jane to the list. She'd patched things up with Charlotte, who was in a good mood anyway due to her win at the Jack Hammer. Her and Cyclops had played until 6am before she emerged triumphant. Lizzy just about managed to feel pleased for her, despite her own horrendous performance.

Mind you, the night hadn't been a waste. She'd stayed out late with George and Lydia, drinking, dancing and talking until the early hours. She liked George. He was a bit too flirtatious at times, had a bit too much self confidence, but he was a nice bloke. She'd almost gone back to his place that night, he'd certainly dropped enough hints, but something had held her back. Besides, she had been hammered, it wouldn't have been the best decision ever. Hopefully she'd see him again soon though and who knows? Her invitation to Charlie's party had been dropped off and it came with a plus one. She'd texted George to ask him if he fancied it, and he had said he'd do his best to make it. Said he wasn't going to hide from his old friends.

Suddenly, she realised her and Jane weren't alone. A man and a woman sat down either side of them, wedging them against the window of the pub. The man was burly, shaved head and morning stubble. His suit was muted, not expensive, instantly forgettable. The woman was the opposite, colourful and memorable. Her dark eyes were pools you could get lost in, her mannerisms delicate but at the same time no nonsense. Could see the hint of a tattoo crawling up her neck above her collar. These two weren't ordinary people.

Lizzy could smell bacon. Could smell police.

"We were just leaving." she said rising up, before the woman's hand was on her shoulder, pushing her back down.

"Easy there, Miss Walker. Or is it Bennet?" the woman said with a chuckle. Lizzy detected a slight accent. Southern European most likely.

"Never heard of her." Lizzy replied, flashing a quick glance at Jane, who looked as composed as ever.

"Do we always have to go through this tiresome routine?" the woman sighed. "Every bloody time it's the same. 'What's your name?', 'no comment' etcetera etcetera. It's just so fucking boring."

"What can we do for you today, officers?" Jane asked sweetly, directing her speech towards the man in an attempt to charm him. The man just snorted. Obviously it wasn't going to be that easy.

"Just a friendly chat, Miss Morgan," the woman smiled. It was more predatory than friendly. "I'm Detective Inspector Zampino and this is Detective Constable Hamilton."

Both showed their badges.

"Zampino? That Italian?" Lizzy asked.

"Well, obviously. God the English can be stupid." Zampino sneered a little.

"Tell me about it." Hamilton cut in, his Scottish brogue was as pronounced as Lizzy thought it would have been when he was a child.

"How exotic," Jane smiled broadly, ignoring them. "Whereabouts in Italy are you from?"

"Unsurprisingly, Miss Morgan, that is none of your business."

"Don't see many foreigners in the MET…" Lizzy trailed off.

"Who said I was in the MET?" Zampino smirked.

"Just assumed."

"Well, don't. So, Lizzy and Jane Bennet, how goes the life of the short con?"

Lizzy and Jane stayed quiet. There was something off about this. This wasn't an ordinary shake down, they'd had enough 'conversations' of that kind to know when it was taking place. This wasn't of that kind.

"Oh, don't be so coy!" Zampino laughed, she was clearly the talker. "Come on, give me all the details! How many old women have you robbed out of their pensions? How many desperate men have you worked the badger on? How many lives you ruined this week?"

The words had started off faux friendly, but had quickly descended into accusatory. Coppers were like this, it was black and white for them, they were the good guys, Lizzy and Jane were the bad.

"We are not thieves." Lizzy said, doing the best she could to remain calm. It was an issue. She always struggled to keep her cool with these types of police. It was an attitude that wasn't good for her, it inevitably landed her in more trouble, but she couldn't help it. These people had no idea, no idea at all.

"Oh, we know exactly what you are…" Hamilton said, coldly.

"You have no fucking clue what or who we are, mate," Lizzy sneered back, feeling the anger rise up through her. "You don't know anything. I'm a product of my environment, a product of our society, where the rich grow richer and the poor grow poorer. I'm just readdressing the balance, whereas you…."

Zampino laughed loudly.

"Bravo," she clapped, before her eyes turned to steel. "But come on, Lizzy, surely you know you're nothing but scum, dirt on the bottom of my shoe. Parasites who leech of the weakness of others, cockroaches who use your oh so tragic life stories to justify what you do. Tell me, do you imagine yourselves as some kind of romantic outlaws, living outside of normality, outside of the law? Do you think you're that special? I hate to break it to you girls, but it's the same all over the world. The same boring fucking justifications and fantasies. You wanted to know where I grew up. Naples, what do they call it, Hamilton?"

"Flower of paradise or something."

"Yes, yes. Flower of fucking paradise. That's what all the poets call it, that's what's on the tourist brochures. You know what we call it? Gomorrah. A place of such poverty and violence that it's compared to hell itself. I grew up with nothing in Secondigliano, side by side with the Camorra foot soldiers. Boys who became men by killing, girls who became women by marrying those killers and giving birth to killers of their own. Repeat, repeat, repeat. Hamilton here grew up in Govanhill, Glasgow, one of the most depraved areas of your awful island. Repeat, repeat, repeat. How many times have we heard the same shit, Hamilton? How many times have we had someone in the box who says, 'it's where I come from,' 'it's just what we do'? Always thinking it's an excuse. It's not though is it? Because me and him, we pay our taxes, we look after our families, we abide by the law. We go to work and do our jobs and do them well. We left our past behind and we fucking _grew up._ When are you two going to do the same?"

Silence followed her speech for a while, before Lizzy broke it.

"I have a question," she leaned closer to Zampino, smirking. "Do you practice that pretentious speech in the mirror every night?"

"Repeat, repeat, repeat…." Hamilton sighed.

"Quite," Zampino's eyes flashed. "Always the fuck you, isn't that right, Lizzy?"

"Is there a charge here, Detective?" Jane asked quickly, could obviously sense that Lizzy may lose her cool with this woman.

"As I said, friendly chat."

"We don't have chats with police without our lawyers present." Jane said.

"You know how guilty that makes you sound right?" Hamilton chuckled. "This a conversation that is going to happen I'm afraid, whether you like it or not."

"Just get to the fucking point!" Lizzy raised her voice.

"As you wish," Zampino smiled that smile. "Hamilton?"

Hamilton reached into his bag and pulled out four photographs, laying them on the table. They were grainy, clearly surveillance.

"Some new friends of yours," Zampino stated, gesturing to the three familiar photographs and the not so familiar one. "Charles and Caroline Bouzid, known otherwise as Charlie and Caro Bingley. Richard 'The Colonel' Fitzwilliam. And finally, the man himself, William 'Picasso' Darcy."

"Picasso…" Lizzy snorted under her breath.

So, this was what it was about then.

"Sorry officers, I haven't heard of any of them." Jane smiled.

"Me neither." Lizzy smirked.

"Funny that," Hamilton narrowed his eyes, producing more photographs and laying them out. "So, that's not you in the picture having lunch with Bingley then, Jane?"

"Oh, that Charlie…" Jane pretended to recollect.

"Yes, that Charlie," Zampino cut in. "Will Darcy's roper and occasional inside man, suspected on charges of fraud, deception and money laundering in six countries. Quite the, um, what's the term…. 'bad boy' you've snagged, Jane."

Jane stayed silent, only a brief flash in her eyes gave away the discomfort she was feeling.

"Silence is golden…" Hamilton sang under his breath, causing Zampino to laugh.

"So, what is this?" Lizzy asked, keen to get away from this situation as soon as possible. It had the potential to turn bad. "You want us to grass or something? Cos I can tell you now, it ain't gonna happen. Besides, we barely know them. And we haven't even met this 'Colonel' character."

"Richard Fitzwilliam's not in town then?" Zampino smiled, and Lizzy quickly realised she'd already given something away. Hamilton pulled out a notebook and began scribbling. Good coppers drew you in, waited and waited for you to make a mistake. They were clearly good coppers. Lizzy could have hit herself. Not because what she'd imparted was of particular importance, not because she cared about Darcy and his crew. No, she cared because she should know better than to get into conversations with police.

"Now listen," Zampino leant in to them. "I don't give a fuck about you, I'm not interested in how you make a living or how you go about doing it. What I am interested in is what a bunch of small time grifters are doing hanging out at the Netherfield penthouse. Must be a good story behind that…."

"We met them at a party," Jane revealed. Lizzy glanced at her quickly in surprise before masking it. What was she doing talking to these people? "That's it. We got on, we've hung out a bit since. No story, no mystery, nothing to it really."

"So you're not angling to be recruited by him?" Hamilton narrowed his eyes. "We know the Bingley's are attempting to set up roots in the city, we know they are actively attempting to recruit grifters for dishonest purposes."

"I'd know nothing about that. As Lizzy said, we barely know them, I have no idea how they make a living."

"What about Will Darcy then," Zampino shot back quickly. "Tell me, is he as good looking in the flesh as he is in the photographs?"

Hamilton rolled his eyes.

"The man's a prick." Lizzy couldn't help but blurt out.

"Is that so?" Zampino leant back. "The beautiful ones always are aren't they? Mind you, Darcy is something of a legend amongst our peers you know. Picasso himself. They say he can't be caught, say he's too good, always three steps ahead of anyone who comes within a mile of him. You think you've got him, but in the end, you were looking in the wrong direction the whole time. Whenever they talk about him with such reverence, I always think, God, what utter fucking bullshit. Everyone can be caught, everyone can be brought down. But, hey, that's not my problem. I don't really give a shit about Will Darcy. What I do give a shit about is this city, and the people who live in it…"

"Look," Jane sighed in exasperation. "We really can't help you with any of this. You know we're not going to grass, we don't have any information anyway. So, can we go now?"

Zampino smiled at them both.

"Tell Charlie Bingley that London is off limits. He will not be setting up a new crew here on my watch. If he ignores this warning, well, I'll rain fucking _fire_ down on him, understand? And when you've done that, my advice is to stay as far away from those four as possible."

Zampino stood up.

"You wanted to be in the big leagues, ladies. This is how it looks."

With that and one last smirk, Zampino and Hamilton swept out the bar.

Lizzy and Jane looked at each other.

"What the hell have we got ourselves into, Jane?" Lizzy asked, gesturing towards the bar for another drink. They needed it….

* * *

"KITTY! LYDIA! We're going in ten minutes, darlings!"

Lizzy tuned out of Frances' ramblings as her 'mother' rushed around in an attempt to get everyone ready for Charlie's shindig. She could do without this. Her mood was already worsened by the fact George had text her his apologies, saying he couldn't make it tonight. Fucker was a flaky one, no doubt about it.

She was also uneasy with the fact that they were still going tonight at all. Jane had passed on Zampino's warning to Charlie, who she said just laughed it off, claiming this happened all the time and that he was sorry she got dragged into it. However, if Lizzy knew Darcy at all, surely he wouldn't share the same opinion. The man was meticulous and news such as this would worry him. But they were still here, still throwing parties, still mixing with the London grifter set. And the Bennet's were part of that. But Lizzy felt that something was off. The whole conversation in the bar with the two detectives hadn't been right, they had been digging for something. Why approach them in the first place? Why not go straight to Bingley himself? It wasn't like he was difficult to find, they knew where he was staying. No, something smelt funny….

"Elizabeth, may I just say how beautiful you look tonight." Billy Collins simpered, sitting down next to her, a little to close to comfort if truth be told.

"Thanks Billy," Lizzy attempted to smile, feeling Frances' eyes on her. "You look rather dashing yourself."

Ok, that was a total lie and she had a hard time keeping a straight face. Billy was wearing a ridiculous white tuxedo that was slightly too big for him, and already showed a few stains. He also had that bloody briefcase chained to his wrist again. What a ridiculous human being he was. How the fuck had he become so successful?

Lizzy, on the other hand, was very pleased with how she'd scrubbed up tonight. Had gone against her preaching's and decided to make a little more effort with her clothes, she was wearing an elegant plain black dress that clung to her in the right places. She felt pretty good, it was nice to dress up occasionally. Wasn't going to make a habit of it though.

"I'm looking forward to the game tonight," Collins droned on. "It's been a while since I've played, but I hope to acquit myself well. And, hey, I'll go easy on you!"

Lizzy played along and laughed, hating herself for it. But, needs must. She had been surprised when Collins had announced his intention to play, saying Charlie had personally visited him when he was working to request it. Seemed a bit strange to Lizzy, Charlie going to all that effort, but what did she know? Remembered Charlotte's words, 'you know what a big deal that guy is right'.

As much as she loved Jane, she couldn't help the brief flash of annoyance when she emerged looking like a fucking Vogue model. She really was beautiful, Lizzy thought, her annoyance fading.

"How do I look?" Jane asked, worriedly. From anyone else it would sound like compliment digging, how could anyone be so fucking perfect and not know it? But from Jane it was sincere, deep down she was one of the most insecure people Lizzy knew, and she knew a lot of troubled people.

"Incredible, Jane," Lizzy hugged her friend. "Seriously, you look amazing. Charlie's not going to be able to concentrate on his cards at all, trust me."

Jane laughed lightly and sat down, checking her phone. Tommo walked in the room, his suit shabby and his hair wild. He grinned at Lizzy.

"Lizzy, look at you then!" he exclaimed. "I don't think I've ever seen you make this much effort. What's going on, someone there you're looking to impress? Is it that George fella Lydia's been droning on about?"

"Nah, he's not coming." Lizzy replied.

"Someone else then perhaps?" Tommo's eyes were alight with gentle mocking. "Trying to steal Charlie away from poor Jane here? Or maybe it's young Billy you've got your eye on!"

Lizzy gave him a withering stare, to which he just chuckled. He was thoroughly enjoying winding her up. Billy puffed himself up next to her. Oh, God. Tommo wasn't finished though.

"Maybe, just maybe, it's another gentleman. One you profess to hate so much. You do seem to go on about him a lot, dear….."

"Fuck off, Tommo, you twat!" Lizzy fired at him.

"The lady protests too much." he smirked, before disappearing again, off to find Frances no doubt.

Lizzy sat back and crossed her arms. Bloody Tommo. The worst thing was, was that she now thought he may have a point. Was she doing this, dressing up like Jane, for Darcy and Caroline? Was she subconsciously trying to prove something to them? Trying to spite them for words spoken and veiled insults hurled? What if she was? What did that make her?

Her crisis of self worth was interrupted by Lydia and Kitty bursting into the room. They looked good. Lydia looked about five years older than she was and her dress was bordering on the obscene. Lizzy laughed inwardly. Now here was someone who truly didn't give a fuck, she thought. Kitty was more understated, she'd always been the quiet one, always in Lydia's shadow. She was a funny girl. If she was honest, Lizzy could admit that she didn't know her at all, not really. She was more like Jane, closed off, but to an even further extent. She gave the outward appearance of being dominated by Lydia, always going where she went, always doing what she did. However, one thing Lizzy knew was that there was more to it. It was Kitty who was the natural grifter of the two, she was the one who had that grift sense, as it was known. Lydia got by on boldness and brashness, but Kitty was the intelligent one, Lydia would be lost without her.

"You like nice, Kitty." Lizzy made the effort.

"Thanks sis, you too." Kitty replied shyly.

"Um, hello?" Lydia waved, gesturing down over her body. "What about me, Lizzy! You know I look fucking hot!"

"You look like you take your top off for money." Lizzy smirked back.

"Well, it depends how much money we're talking!" Lydia laughed loudly.

"Lydia…" Jane warned.

"Relax, I was kidding. Maybe. Anyway, what's up Billy boy? Don't you and Lizzy look quite the couple!"

Billy smiled nervously, Lizzy gave Lydia the finger when he wasn't looking. Just as Lydia was about to respond, Frances strode into the room.

"Oh my girls! Don't you all look incredible! Even you, Lizzy, for a change!"

"I take my lead from you Frances." Lizzy said sarcastically, not picked up on by the woman in question.

"Of course you do, dear! Now where's that blasted father of yours. The Bennet's at the Netherfield! I've been waiting so long for this, girls…."

* * *

They were greeted effusively by Charlie at the door, given a glass of champagne straight off the bat. He couldn't take his eyes of Jane again, it really was a little sickening, Lizzy thought.

"Yes, Caro's running a little late," he was saying. "Her and Louisa went out shopping this afternoon, and they are yet to return. Knowing them, they've problem spent the GDP of a small nation by now…."

"I don't doubt it." Lizzy laughed. No doubt Caroline would come back laden with Gucci and Versace.

"You know my sister so well already, Lizzy," Charlie chuckled. "Anyway, if you'd all like to make your way into the lounge, there's cocktails and some food. I meant for this to be a small thing, but it appears Caro has invited half the city. You should have seen he look on poor Darcy's face, the antisocial bugger! Jane, Lizzy, can I have a quick word?"

Tommo, Frances and the girls moved away into the throng, leaving Jane and Lizzy.

"I'd just like to apologise for the other day, that business with the police," he began, running a hand through his afro. "Unfortunately it comes with the territory these days. We got too big too fast. But it's not going to put us off! I may well return to Manchester next week to tie up some business, but me and Caro will be back before the month is out. And then the games truly begin! Keep it quiet, but I think I may have already found the first mark…"

"You've got a crew together?" Lizzy asked, wondering if perhaps Jane was in the frame.

"I have the skeleton of one, yes," Charlie nodded. "Darcy's connections have paid off and of course I've been introduced to a number of promising grifters myself. I can't be relying solely on Will forever. It still seems a little strange doing this without him, but I'm looking forward to the new challenges and the new people."

He was eyeing Jane as he said this, and Lizzy felt that familiar mixture of pride and a hint of jealousy. In the darker reaches of her mind she was thinking, why Jane? Lizzy was the one who had the ambition, who wanted more than anything to play the long con. Jane had never really expressed any desire to. Yet here she was, with the opportunity of a lifetime, and Lizzy was right where she started, at the bottom of the pile. Of course she thought these things, she was a human being. And she was a grifter, and in the end, grifters were the most selfish people of all. But she was also proud of her friend, and knew that she did deserve it. Could never forget that Jane was the one who saved her life, it was her turn.

"Well, I wish you all the best with it," Lizzy smiled. "And I'm sure we'll be running into each other a fair bit once you return."

"Of course," Charlie nodded, still looking at Jane. "Do you want to head on in? Unfortunately, I have to wait here and greet all our guests, I'd much rather stay with you two, but alas I am too polite."

"Ok," Jane blushed. It was cute that she still did that around him, Lizzy thought. "I'll…we'll see you in a little while then?"

"Yes, yes!" Charlie responded enthusiastically. "Lizzy, the game starts in around half an hour, basic hold 'em rules with a twist, don't want the game to go on all night after all."

He kissed Jane's hand and they left him beaming, entering the main space of the suite. No expense had been spared, a cocktail bar, waiters with trays of food and champagne, a fucking ice sculpture in the middle of the room. To have money, Lizzy thought.

She passed the time pleasantly, there was a fair few people here she knew, and best of all, Charlotte was there and on top form, sarcastically quipping her way around the room as Lizzy laughed along or joined in. Even Frances wasn't being too awful yet, though that would probably change once the drinks started flowing. She spied Denny in the corner talking to Lydia and decided to ask him about George.

"Hey, Denny," she approached him. "You in the game tonight?"

"God no," Denny laughed. "After my performance at the Jack Hammer? No, no, I'm just here for the free booze!"

"Aren't we all." Lydia smirked.

"You ever heard the phrase 'bad dress rehearsal' Denny? It's what I'm clinging to," Lizzy joked before turning serious. "And be careful, young lady this isn't the time or place to get absolutely wasted."

"Like I'm going to listen to your lectures on boozing," Lydia grinned. "I distinctly remember how wrecked you were the other night, sis! All that grinding on George was pretty cringing…."

"Shut up Lyds. Where is he tonight, Denny?" Lizzy asked. "He was supposed to come."

"Oh, he said something about a job down South. But to be honest, I'm pretty sure he didn't have any intention of coming here. Rumour has it him and this lot have some sort of history. No idea, but he doesn't like to talk about it."

Funny that, he hadn't seemed to mind talking about it to her in great detail. And they barely knew each other. Went back to Jane's words the other day about taking him with a pinch of salt….

Then she spied Darcy staring at her from across the room, and any doubts about George's character evaporated. He looked away quickly, as if embarrassed about having been caught looking. She looked at him for a moment, couldn't help but appreciate how he looked in his understated tux. His hair was a little on the messy side, as if he'd been running his hand through it too much, but it was a welcome change from his normal straight as they come look. 'The beautiful ones always are', that's what Zampino had said when she'd called Darcy a prick. She was right.

"Who you eyefucking, Lizzy?" Charlotte appeared beside her as Lydia dragged Denny to the dance floor.

"No-one." Lizzy quickly looked down, but it was too late.

"Oh, no way!" Charlotte cried dramatically. "Darcy? The man does look good tonight but still."

"I was not eyefucking him. I was thinking of the best ways to kill him and get away with it."

"Of course," Charlotte smirked. "And what have you come up with?"

"Ice arrow," Lizzy smiled evilly. "Break it off that sculpture, put it in the crossbow, fire it, evidence melts away. I think I have the perfect murder, Charlotte."

"Ridiculous," Charlotte shook her head. "By the way, he's looking at you again. He does that quite a lot, you know."

"Probably thinking along similar lines to me." Lizzy sighed.

"I think he might be thinking something quite different…" Charlotte trailed off. Before Lizzy could follow up, they were interrupted by Billy Collins who of course wanted to talk about Lady Catherine. She zoned out and nodded occasionally, thinking of where she could get a crossbow at this hour….

* * *

It was time for the main event to begin. They were led into a side room off from the main area where the table was set out. The dealer was dressed like Vegas and there was ten seats around the table, each with name cards. Lizzy took her seat opposite Collins, who himself was sat with his back to the door next to Darcy, who's expression was as serious as ever. Charlotte and her father were both playing, Lizzy was looking forward to seeing her friend beat her Dad. It would be pretty funny. Charlie was there also, Jane was with him, although she was not getting involved. The rest of the table was made up of Hurst, a woman with long red hair who introduced herself as Cassie Black, and a man and woman, obviously married, Marie and Davey. Marie was so French it was bordering on parody, whereas her husband was as cockney as they come.

"Ok, good we're all here!" Charlie grinned at the occupants of the room. "Now remember everyone, this is a friendly game. No fighting, yes, I'm looking at you Cassie! Is everyone ready? Billy, you ok?"

"Yes, yes," he sweated, holding onto his hand, clearly in discomfort. It's just this briefcase giving the wrist a bit of grief."

"Well old boy, give it here and I'll have it locked in the safe for you. You can't go playing poker with that thing hanging from the table! Your wrist will snap after three hands!"

"Oh no, I never let it out of my sight see," Billy shook his head, seriously. "Important business on there for mine and Lady Catherine De Bourgh's eyes only. Can't have anyone poking around it."

"How about you cuff it to the chair then?" Darcy remarked lazily, his tone bored and annoyed.

"Splendid idea, Darcy!" Charlie said, way to enthusiastically. Lizzy had the feeling the two friends were mocking Billy somewhat.

"I suppose it could work," Billy agreed, inspecting the chair. "I'll lock it onto this middle bit here then…."

"Darcy, give the bloke a hand would you?" Charlie admonished his friend, Billy was clearly in a lot of discomfort.

"Of course." Darcy sighed out, helping Billy unlock it and crouching down to cuff it to the oak.

"Thank you, Mr Darcy," Billy wheezed out. "The great lady herself often talks about you with such fondness, and the beautiful Anne of course. If there's one man to trust with such an important thing, it is undoubtedly you!"

"Catherine is a great woman," Darcy drew back up, sitting back down on his chair. "And Anne is a good friend of mine."

"A friend, or something more, good man?" Billy crowed, Darcy's expression flashing with anger for the briefest of seconds.

"We will see." Darcy attempted to shut the conversation down.

"I know it is her ladyships greatest wish to see the two of you finally…."

"Excellent!" Charlie interrupted, raising his voice above Billy's, Darcy shooting him a grateful look. "Ok then, let's begin!"

Five women, five men. One winner.

The rules were explained and they began, Jane departing with a kiss on the cheek for Charlie and a good luck.

Judas.

* * *

Lizzy took a while to get going. This was a different class of game to the one at the Jack Hammer. In the initial stages, she was plagued by confidence issues. If she couldn't even last two hours in the back room of a pub, how the hell was she going to come out of this one with any dignity? She was bleeding chips for a while, until a lucky hand gave her the boost she needed and she began to claw back. It was Billy who was in the most trouble now. Unsurprisingly, he'd proved himself inept at the game, his face was alight with tells and he was down to bare bones. The next hand was dealt and the blinds thrown in. Billy was panicking, he knew he had to do something, so he pushed it. For a minute, it seemed he would get away with it and somehow survive another half hour at least, as everyone folded around him. However, one man was still left with him come the end.

Darcy.

Charlie had mentioned before about Darcy being something of a poker expert, and Lizzy was beginning to see that it was no exaggeration. He was current chip leader, had outfoxed Charlotte early on with a smart bluff and currently appeared to be untouchable. His marble demeanour stood him in good stead, he was impossible to read. Collins didn't stand a chance, or so she thought.

Billy went all in, and then something strange happened. It was so obvious that Collins was bluffing, everybody around the table knew it. Even if he got lucky on the river and somehow won, it would do little harm to Darcy's chip pile. Surely he was going to take him out.

But then, after a moment of deliberation, Darcy threw down his cards face down and folded.

Lizzy was stunned. Darcy had proven himself the best player here, and yet for some reason he'd made one of the least justifiable folds of the evening. Billy clapped his hands and raked in a considerable pile of chips. Charlotte shot her a quizzical raise of the eyebrows. It wasn't just her who found the whole thing a little off then. Maybe Darcy just had a bad hand or had lost concentration. It happened to everyone at some point.

Before she could follow up on her thoughts, there was a small crash and Caroline appeared, struggling through the door, her arms full of shopping bags. Her dark complexion was flushed and her hair was less immaculate than usual.

"Charlie, I'm so sorry I'm late!" she breathed out dramatically. "Me and Louisa lost track of time. Where is the bloody service in here as well? I had to carry these bags up all by myself and Louisa's having to park the car! Can you believe that!"

Caroline moved into the room, positioning herself standing between Darcy and Billy, dropping her bags, and leaning a hand on Darcy's shoulder, catching her breath. Lizzy caught his eye and it was all she could do not to laugh at his apparent discomfort. Shot him a smirk and he looked away quickly.

"The staff are attending to the party, Caro," Charlie said. "You know, the one you insisted on having, organised, and then promptly forgot to show up to."

"Well, I'm here now. Darcy, be a darling and help me with these will you? I won't get through all the people on my own."

"We're in the middle of a game, Caro!" Hurst spoke up, his words already slurring. "Breaks not due for another half hour."

"It's fine, deal me out of the next hand," Darcy waved him off, throwing in his blind and bending down to pick up the bags from next to him. There were so many of them, Lizzy laughed to herself. Charlie was wrong, Caroline had probably spent the GDP of America. She disappeared with a wave and they continued on, Lizzy managed to win the next hand, beating Charlie's two pair with a straight.

Darcy returned for the next hand and they continued on for a few more minutes, before they were interrupted again by a familiar sight, only this time it was Louisa laden with shopping bags. This was quickly descending into a farce.

"Took me a bloody age to park the car," Louisa said. "Sorry to interrupt but I need the safe key from my husband here."

Hurst grunted and threw her the key across the table, Darcy catching it, but not before Louisa had dropped her bags on the floor in anticipation of the catch. God, what a bastard of a husband, Lizzy thought. Drunk, embarrassing, all in all a dickhead. She wanted to beat him almost as much as she wanted to beat Darcy.

Not quite as much though.

The man in question yet again found himself helping, only his time Louisa waved him off and quickly made her escape.

"Do me a favour, Tim my boy, and lock the door." Charlie chuckled at the dealer, who did as asked. No more interruptions would be had.

* * *

The evening progressed, and the soldiers began to fall. First to go was William Lucas much to Charlotte's delight. However that joy was short lived ,as it wasn't long before she exited herself, the hand after cockney Davey had. She looked furious, she was better than that. The nerves had got to her and Darcy and Hurst had decimated her chip pile on a far too regular basis. Billy stumbled on for a while, but Lizzy took great pleasure in taking him out herself, calling his bluff like Darcy should have done earlier. All of a sudden, Lizzy was beginning to believe she was in with a real shout of coming out of this triumphant. Only Hurst and Darcy were ahead of her. After the second break, Charlie came back distracted, he had spent the entire fifteen minute interval talking to Jane, and there was clearly only one place he wanted to be, and it wasn't at the table. French Marie took him out although it took little effort. Ten had become five, Lizzy, Cassie, Marie, Hurst and Darcy. Hurst had surprised her so much that she was now beginning to wonder if the whole drunkard thing was all an act. He was sharp, almost in Darcy's league and she couldn't get a read on him.

However, Lizzy thought she may have picked up on Marie's tell early on, a throat slash and a hair flick, a classic liars gesture. She checked it out again when given the first opportunity, lost the hand on the river but it was worth it. Marie had had nothing until the final card was turned and had been bluffing the entire hand, Lizzy spied the body language tell. She'd only lost a few hundred and now she had Marie's number. It took a while for the chance to present itself, as Darcy seemed to lose patience and went on a streak. He had enough chips to bully everyone off the table and he began to do so, Cassie was his first victim, followed by an epic showdown with Hurst. Lizzy and the rest had folded on the flop, but neither Darcy or Hurst was backing down from it. Darcy went all in as the river was turned and Hurst called immediately, slapping his cards face up on the table. Straight, nine to King. Darcy looked at them and showed no emotion, turning his cards over to reveal… oh for fuck sake, a flush. Hurst looked stunned for a moment, before recovering, laughing loudly and giving Darcy a friendly hug before disappearing. He had played well, just not well enough.

It left Lizzy with a problem. Now, with only three left, she had a big pile of chips, but she was well behind Darcy. She needed to be the one to take out Marie, she couldn't let Darcy take anymore money. If he did, then she had almost zero chance of coming out on top as he could just wait and wait for her pile to slowly diminish, allowing him the luxury of licking and choosing his moment. He was too comfortable, had been the whole game, she had to unsettle him, had to plant a seed of doubt. God, she wanted this bad. To come this close and walk away with second place would be heartbreaking. She was immensely proud of how she'd played tonight, indeed she couldn't remember ever turning up to a poker game and doing so well, but it wasn't enough now. She needed this.

That's when the poker God's shined down on her.

The cards were nearly perfect, Ace of hearts and King of spades. She glanced at them, before looking up to Marie. Darcy instantly folded with a sigh, his first show of any expression. Maybe she was getting to him. She had no doubt that he'd also have picked up on Marie's tell, he was too good not to have. His sigh was one of frustration, he knew that Lizzy had seen it too and could be about to break the game wide open, setting the stage for the showdown she so desperately wanted. Lizzie called Marie's slight raise and waited for the flop. Ten of hearts, two of spades and jack of diamonds. Marie raised three thousand. It was a big bet, nearly half her chips. Lizzy pondered it. This was the moment, that pivotal point. Marie moved her hand across her throat. So she was bluffing, Lizzy nodded to herself. That may well be so, but still, right now Lizzy had nothing either. She needed a Queen to come up on the turn or the river and then she'd undoubtedly win the hand. However, it was a big risk, one that she normally wouldn't have taken. But she could just sense that this was the chance, she'd regret it if she didn't. So she called. On came the turn, four of diamonds. No use.

Marie went all in.

Lizzy knew what she was going to do when she felt Darcy's eyes on her. It went against every rule, she should just wait for the next opportunity. But what if Darcy got that opportunity first? No, it couldn't happen. Fuck it, she thought, she was owed some luck.

"Call."

Marie went white, Lizzy knew she had nothing then. Maybe she had a pair, but she doubted it.

The turn came.

Ace of spades.

Marie turned her cards over.

One pair. Fours.

Lizzy let out a sigh of relief.

After all that, she'd won on a high pair.

Marie exited gracefully with a smile. She looked reasonably pleased with herself, it had been a good showing.

But now there were two.

The main event, what it had all been building up to.

* * *

"Must we sit in such silence, Darcy?" Lizzy smirked slyly after enduring half an hour more of cat and mouse. "It makes it all so much more intense."

Darcy looked up from his cards, as if surprised at the address.

"Do you usually talk at this stage of a game Elizabeth?" he asked. "In my experience, it is decidedly uncommon for one to do so, considering the stakes are at the highest. However, I am willing to have any conversation you wish to engage in."

"I find it too odd to sit in complete silence when there are only three people in the room," she laughed. "It is somewhat awkward. But by all means, let's continue on in this vain. I understand that you are as antisocial as they come."

He surprised her by chuckling slightly at her words, before focusing back on his cards, raising a small amount.

"I don't like it either, you know," Lizzy remarked lightly, calling him at the same time. "All these parties and forced interaction. Someone asked me the other day if I liked anyone at all. It got me thinking about you actually. Perhaps we are not so different after all…"

"Did that wound you to admit?" Darcy said, he corners of his mouth turning up slightly. "I think you do yourself a disservice Miss Bennet, you appear to be quite at ease in such settings. It's what enables you to do what you do for a living, I'm sure. Short con players have to have a certain likeability and a knack for social occasions. I cannot speak for my own character, but perhaps you are just seeing what you expect to see in me."

"Perhaps…." Lizzy trailed off, not giving his words any weight in her mind.

They were quiet for a while longer, playing out a few hands. Lizzy had clawed back to within touching distance, but there was still a ways to go. In a twist she hadn't seen coming, it was Darcy who spoke again first.

"So, how was the game at the Jack Hammer the other night?" he asked, a slight hesitancy in his voice. "I heard Cyclops put in a good performance…."

Lizzy almost rose to the jibe, but she knew this wasn't the time to throw all her good work away. She wasn't going to let him unsettle her with his mocking, no, she was going to turn it right back on him. It was a bit of a dick move, but needs must.

"Yes, he played well," she replied. "I was disappointed with my own performance, but the night wasn't a complete waste. Ran into an old friend of yours actually, George Wickham. The mans good company…."

The effect was immediate, his hands shook slightly and his eyes flashed before he was composed again. He looked at her, appraisingly.

"George is good at making new friends," he replied carefully. "Whether he is able to keep them or not is a different matter entirely."

"Well, he's certainly been unlucky to lose your friendship, Darcy. I doubt he can ever recover from that." Lizzy kept her tone light, masking any bite that was meant.

"George Wickham is the most naturally gifted grifter I have ever met," Darcy looked down. "He could have had the world, but he is determined to throw every chance he is ever given away."

It hit her.

With that sentence, Lizzy achieved clarity, perhaps for the first time since she had met the man. Here he was, saying George should have been happy to be ripped off, happy to be a subordinate to the great 'Picasso' like Charlie and Caro were, bowing at his feet, hanging off his every word. Suddenly Lizzy didn't care anymore. She didn't care about this game, she'd wasted weeks thinking about this man, hating him, wanting to either beat him or perversely impress him. It was stupid. The man was a fucking arsehole and she didn't want to ever see him again, she wanted right now to leave and never look back. It had all been wasted time. Life was too short.

"I've spent a long time trying to figure you out, Darcy." she said coldly, laying her cards face down on the table.

"And what have you discovered?"

"I don't know," she said simply. "I really don't know at all. Who you are, what you are, whatever. It's all just pointless, isn't it?"

"Well, I'm not sure about that."

"I think I am. What say you then, Will? How about it, next hand, all in, fifty fifty chance. Let's end this now and not look back. You in?"

Darcy looked at her, his expression unreadable as always.

"What will that achieve?" he said slowly.

"We won't know until it's done. You up for it? Or are you too much of a pussy?"

"Ah, the goading tactics," he laughed quietly. "You think that's going to work on me, Lizzy? You think I haven't heard all of it before?"

"I'm sure you have, whether it's something to be proud of or not is a debatable matter."

He laughed again.

"If this is what you want to do then let's do it." he nodded at her.

"Good."

The cards were dealt, neither of them looked at them. The flop, the turn, the river.

"Good luck Miss Bennet." Darcy said.

"You too."

They turned over their cards.

It didn't matter. Lizzy looked at the hands, saw who had won, but she didn't care. She got up with a nod and left the room, feeling Darcy's eyes on her. She swept through the room, feeling lighter than she had in weeks, ignored any who tried to call out to her. Saw Frances sloppily shouting about something in a corner, Caroline talking to Jane, Lydia running around with her breasts dangerously close to falling out of her top. On she went, out of the doors, down the elevator and into the street. Drew her arms around her as she searched for a cab, soon hailing one down. Before she entered, she looked up at the Netherfield, eyes seeking the top floor. A speck of orange light, glowing and then fading into the night.

With that one final look, she got in the cab and went home.

* * *

 **AN. Like it? Hate it? I'm somewhere in the middle to be honest. And it's too long.**


	10. Sucker

"Elizabeth, may I have a quick word…."

Lizzy shut her eyes tightly before turning round to face Billy Collins. She had a feeling the conversation she had delayed and dodged for weeks had finally come for her.

It was the day after the poker game at Netherfield and Lizzy had awoke fresher and lighter than she had for a while, thanks to her epiphany at the card table. The realisation that she had spent way too long thinking and worrying about Darcy and what his friends thought of her, both made her feel disgusted with herself for letting such trivial things get to her and pleased with herself that she had been able to eventually recognise it for what it was and try to change it. She had been in a foul mood ever since they had arrived, she'd been horrible to her friends, self-righteous with those police officers, who incidentally were still harassing Jane slightly, had all in all been a bit of a bitch. That snaky side was in her character, she knew that, but it was when it tipped from friendly piss taking to outright nastiness, that's when she knew she was going wrong. She couldn't blame it all on Darcy, she had to take her share, but it was him and Caroline who had inspired it in her. Enough was enough now. She'd go back to being the real her. She was attempting to build some bridges with Frances and Tommo today, so she was at the townhouse. Unfortunately that had given Collins the perfect opportunity to get her alone, with the aid of Frances.

Darcy and that lot would be leaving about now, she thought as she checked her watch, another delaying tactic to avoid Billy. Darcy was going back to Pemberley, back to Edinburgh, and wouldn't return, his job was done. Charlie and Caroline were going back home to Manchester for a week or two, indeed Caroline had made noises about her perhaps staying up there permanently. That struck her as slightly odd, I mean someone like Caro would surely look down on the North West in comparison to the bright lights of London, but there you go, she wasn't going to complain. Charlie insisted he would be back as soon as possible and it was a pretty much a done deal that him and Jane would become official when he returned. Jane had confided to Lizzy that if she was offered a spot in his new crew, she was going to turn it down. Lizzy had first reacted incredulously, I mean what an opportunity, but Jane had made sense, saying that she wasn't in it for that, she just wanted to be with him without any other pressure. Lizzy was delighted for her. Her sister was in love…..

"Elizabeth?"

Crashing down to earth.

"Yes, Billy, what can I do for you?" she asked, turning around to face his sweaty countenance.

"Well, you see um…" he stuttered. "I um, let's say… um I leave for Vegas in a couple of days. My business here is all but done, all the instructions have been given. No need for me to stay any longer away from her ladyship. Um.. But you see um…. I have been most impressed with you and I would like to repay the kindness your sweet family has shown me. I know we discussed one of Mr Bennet's daughters taking up at position at Rosings, underneath me of course, and I am delighted to say I have chosen you for the job! It will be hard work but you will be given extensive training by myself so you can match Lady Catherine's high standards. I took the liberty of booking your plane ticket, we leave from Heathrow in two days!"

A couple of days ago, Lizzy would have been furious, would have mocked him completely, would have found insults hidden in every syllable. But now, she just felt a little sorry for the man. She didn't like him, but he was just a bit pathetic, lonely, obsessive, weird, ultimately harmless and it was even a little sweet of him to offer her this opportunity. Of course, she had no intention of taking him up on him, she wouldn't work for him as a fucking PA for any money in the world. But she would let him down gently, he was owed at least that.

"Vegas? It's certainly a tempting offer, Billy, and you honour me with it, but I'm afraid I'm going to have to decline. I cannot be so far away from my family and I'm not sure I'm suited for the role of PA…"

"Nonsense, Lizzy!" Collins laughed, not in the slightest bit put out. "We'll have to iron out some of your more um _street_ tendencies, and you will have to stop all this silly short con business, but your family can come an visit whenever they like…"

"I'm sorry, Billy." Lizzy tried again.

"Oh, I see what your doing," Billy smiled. "The old playing hard to get routine, eh? I know what you women are like, and I know what grifters are like as well. Trying to make sure you get the best deal, aren't you? Smart, very smart, what drew me to you in the first place. Smart indeed. The position comes with it's own fully paid for lodgings just a stones throw away from my own place, it's not as big of course, but it is a very generous space. The salary is impressive, you will not find a better deal out there. Now, I'll show you the contract I've drafted…"

"ENOUGH!" Lizzy finally lost her cool, before quickly reigning herself back in. Remembered what she had told herself earlier. "It is such a generous offer, Billy, and I'm truly sorry to disappoint you, but it's just not for me I'm afraid. I assure you, you'd regret giving me the job within a couple of weeks and then where would we be? Both of us would be unhappy, and that's not right is it?"

"But… do you realise the opportunity you are being presented with?" Billy stammered, incredulously. "A chance to get out of the game you are in, a chance to make an honest and lucrative living in _Las Vegas_! Vegas itself!"

"I know, Billy," she touched his arm gently. "It is with a heavy heart that I refuse. I hope we can still be friends."

With that she rushed out of the room, ignoring his calls. She ran out onto the street, keen to get as far away as possible. Put her hood up and began to walk quickly away, but she wasn't going to get away that easy…

* * *

"ELIZABETH BENNET, GET BACK HERE THIS INSTANT!" Frances screamed from behind her, drawing the attention of the people sat outside the cafés.

Lizzy sighed and turned around, ready to face the music, ready to argue back if necessary. This was her life.

"Just what are you playing at, young lady?" Frances hissed at her, grabbing onto her arm. "Do you realise how hard I've worked to get you this opportunity?"

"I'm sorry, mum, but I can't work for him," Lizzy wrenched her arm free. "You know me as well as anyone, surely you know I'd be fucking useless as a PA."

"You'll learn Lizzy," Frances dismissed. "It's time for you to grow up, child. Do you want to be like Charlotte Lucas, still running short cons into your late twenties and thirties?"

"I will not go." Lizzy repeated.

"For God sake, Lizzy," Frances threw her arms up in the air. "I give up with you, I really do. You've always been trouble, from the moment Jane took you in. I have no idea why your father holds you in such regard. You are stubborn, ignorant, arrogant, so sure of yourself, and for what reason? What have you actually achieved in life, Elizabeth? You have made no progress whatsoever. You stand here throwing it all back in my face, all the years I've looked out for you, tried to help you…"

"STOP!" Lizzy shouted, tears springing freely. "You've never fucking tried, Frances. You've always hated me, always criticised, always found the worst in me. And you've never been afraid to express it, have you? Well, I'm sorry I'm not Jane, sorry I'm not Lydia and Kitty, sorry I don't match up to your expectations…"

"I took you in!" Frances shouted. "You'd be nowhere without me, still on the streets. And this is the thanks I get!"

"Fuck off!" Lizzy screamed, they were causing quite the scene.

"No, Lizzy, you go and do that. If you don't reconsider what Billy is offering, you will never set foot in my house again, do you understand? You will not be welcome to use our name anymore. Elizabeth _Walker…."_

"Frances, go inside please." the voice of Tommo spoke up as he strode towards them, an uncharacteristically serious expression on his face.

"Thomas, darling, do you know what she has done!" Frances cried.

"I am aware. Now go inside, I want to speak to my daughter alone."

"But, darling…"

"GO, NOW!" Tommo exploded, it was the first time Lizzy had ever seen him shout before. It was imposing, and caused Frances to hurry off inside. Lizzy wiped her eyes on her sleeve. She had vowed years ago that she wouldn't allow Frances to make her cry ever again, but she had failed. Frances had cut her to the bone. They'd never got on, but Lizzy still loved the woman, she was the only mother she'd ever known, despite her faults. And to hear those words coming from her mouth …. well it made her feel smaller than ever. Gone was the tough Lizzy, she was stripped down, shrunken, and now she was that scared child that Jane had found slumped in a shop doorway all alone….

"Oh, Lizzy…" Tommo engulfed her in a hug. She clung to him tightly, tears flowing again, soaking his shirt collar.

"I'm sorry, Tommo," she sobbed. "Please, don't make me go back, don't make me work for that man."

"Hush now," Tommo soothed. "You think I'd let you go and work as a glorified secretary for that odious creature?"

Lizzy laughed and felt a weight lift, but she was still crying.

"Besides, I need you here with me," Tommo laughed. "Where would I get my entertainment without you? As much as I love your sisters, they are not all the sharpest tools. Even Jane has grown quite the bore with all this falling in love nonsense. No, no, your place is here. Don't listen to Frances, Lizzy, she doesn't mean it, not really."

"She does."

"No, she doesn't. She loves you, Lizzy, whatever you may think. She's just disappointed, that's all. She wants what is best for you, or at least what she thinks is best."

"Why did you marry her, Tommo?" she asked for the very first time. It had always struck her as the oddest thing in the world. He was so sensible and level headed, content with who he was and where he was. She was the complete opposite.

"I ask myself that question every day," Tommo chuckled. "And I still don't have an answer that I'm wholly happy with. I suppose I fell in love quickly and somehow managed to stay in love, just about."

Lizzy snorted.

"Does my answer not satisfy you?" he asked. "It is the only one I have. Perhaps it is unexplainable, maybe you are too young to understand. I don't know. But I do know this, you will always be welcome in my home, you will always be a Bennet, ok? Nothing anyone says will change that, absolutely nothing."

Lizzy detached herself from the hug and smiled at him. He smirked and lit a cigarette.

"Now, let's stop all this crying nonsense, ok? It's way too dramatic, way too Lydia."

Lizzy laughed, before her eye caught something over his shoulder. Billy Collins, struggling out of the townhouse with his things, Frances imploring behind him. Collins spied Lizzy and looked at her for a moment before huffing and turning away, attempting to get down the front steps.

"Oh dear," Tommo chuckled, amused by the sight. "Looks like you've hurt the poor mans feelings, Lizzy. I suppose I should go and smooth things over."

"Yes, you probably should." Lizzy frowned at Frances who glared back.

"Take care, Lizzy, and remember what I said. Also, know that me and my wife will be having a very serious conversation about her behaviour. No-one insults my favourite daughter like that."

"You know, you're not supposed to admit to having a favourite child." Lizzy smirked, her anger and sadness slowly evaporating. Even managed to feel a slight twinge of amusement at the whole ridiculousness of the situation they found themselves in.

"Don't tell the others, although I'm pretty sure they already know. Now, excuse me, Lizzy, I have to go and sort this shitstorm out and then have a good shout at my awful wife."

He kissed her on the cheek and was away, calling out to Billy. Lizzy smiled and turned on her heel, walking away from the madness. She just wanted to see Jane and Charlotte.

* * *

Jane had found her curled up on their sofa some hours later, eyes red and puffy. She had comforted her instantly, listened to her ranting and just generally been the perfect human being she was. Lizzy felt better after a while, a little annoyed at how much Frances had been able to hurt her, but better all the same. Their peace was interrupted by Lydia bursting in. Showing the lack of tact she was known for, she plonked herself own on the sofa and began to gabble on about something or other, only pausing once to ask Lizzy if she was ok, before carrying on. Lizzy was therefore grateful when the doorbell went, getting up to answer and pleased to see Charlotte standing on her doorstpe.

"You want to get out of here?" Charlotte asked, instantly picking up on Lizzy's upset.

"A million time, fucking yes."

* * *

They took the tube down to the river and strolled along the South bank. Something was troubling Charlotte, Lizzy could tell that, but she didn't ask what it was. She would tell her when she was ready. They got a coffee and sat down on a nearby bench, watching the world go by for while in companionable silence. It was what Lizzy needed.

"This was where we first met, do you remember?" Charlotte broke the silence, with a tone of wistfulness, reaching into her pocket and taking out a tatty pack of cigarette papers, beginning the ritual.

"Of course," Lizzy laughed. "I was with Jane and Mark. We were sat right over there with those skater kids, and then you strolled up, all punk attitude. I fucking hated you!"

"I know, right? And you were the rudest little girl I'd ever laid eyes on," Charlotte smirked, sprinkling the tobacco and green into the paper. "All, fuck you, and that. Right little bitch!"

"Says you!" Lizzy chuckled. "You had fucking stickers on your boots!"

"I predated hipster." Charlotte giggled.

"So, you're to blame then?"

"I'm not proud of it."

Charlotte went silent, going to work, licking the paper and rolling it up, twisting the tip. Brought her lighter out and began carefully burning the end in rotation, before she was finished. She stuck the spliff in her mouth and lit it properly, inhaling deeply, exhaling slowly. Got a few looks from around her, but she didn't care. Lizzy took it from between Charlotte's fingers and took a toke, only coughing slightly.

"Easy there, Bennet." Charlotte laughed.

"It's been a while." Lizzy defended, trying again and feeling the calm descend. She wondered why she'd ever stopped smoking weed…..

"But yeah, that first day," Charlotte picked up the previous thread. "You were so sure of yourself, going on about what a grifter you were going to be, how one day you were going to play the long con. I thought, fucking hell, this girl has no idea whatsoever."

"You didn't think it, you said it!" Lizzy grinned.

"I did, didn't I?" Charlotte took the spliff back. "And then you said you'd prove it."

"God, I am an arrogant little shit, aren't I?" Lizzy sighed.

"Nah, your not really, Lizzy. Anyway, we came up with that game. Five hours, two teams, we start with no money and whoever had the most at five o'clock was the winner, the better grifter. The short con challenge."

"I'd forgotten…" Lizzy smile into the memory.

"We drew lots. I was so fucking annoyed when I got paired with you. The two of us v Jane and Mark. Great, a whole day stuck with this stupid girl."

"That was a day though. Do you remember that fake boat tour we did?"

"Fucking hell!" Charlotte began to laugh uncontrollably. "You found an empty boat, nicked a sign, and then just started shouting at the top of your voice. BOAT TOUR, BOAT TOUR! TENNERS IN! We must have made about three hundred quid in five minutes."

"Sat them on the boat and then just ran away!" Lizzy finished, taking a mock bow.

"And the rest was history," Charlotte said. "Of course, Jane and Mark fucking battered us. We were so sure we'd won and then they came back with about 5k. God, Jane used to be the best."

"We caught up though." Lizzy grinned.

"You did," Charlotte sighed, suddenly serious. "You learnt so quickly, Lizzy. You're one of the best short con players around these days."

"So are you." Lizzy narrowed her eyes, getting the feeling things were about to get more serious.

"No, I'm not," Charlotte laughed humourlessly. "You said it yourself, Lizzy, I'm nearly thirty and I'm still working The Flop. Still scraping a living, day by day. I'm not a grifter, not really."

"Yes you are!" Lizzy asserted, looking her friend dead in the eye. "I'm sorry I've been so horrible, Char. I didn't mean any of it. Fucking Darcy and Caroline were getting to me, I've been a right bitch the last few weeks."

"Yeah, you kind of have." Charlotte murmured.

"I'm sorry, ok?"

"I know," Charlotte sighed. "It's just difficult, you know? I mean, what the fuck am I doing? Still running around like I'm twenty, not progressing, disappointing my family, watching my friends soar while I just stay on the level. I'm stuck Lizzy, so fucking stuck."

Lizzy fell silent and watched her friend. She wouldn't make eye contact, was looking down and determinedly making her way through her spliff. She'd never seen Charlotte like this before. She was like Lizzy, tough, full of front, not letting much get to her, always the coolest person in the room. Never seen her small and defeated before. Her heart was breaking.

"What's going on, Charlotte?" Lizzy asked, placing a hand on her shoulder, rubbing in circles.

"I'm um…. Billy Collins came to see me this afternoon…"

"Oh, God!" Lizzy exclaimed, the picture becoming clearer. "Hey, don't fucking worry about that shit Charlotte. Trust me, you did the right thing. Did you turn him down gently at least? I tried to, but he went a bit mad, stormed right off. Went straight to you obviously. What an arsehole! Who next, fucking Lydia? That would be quite funny actually, seeing her laugh right in his face….."

"Lizzy…." Charlotte tried to interrupt.

"Yes, your better than that," Lizzy continued on obliviously, getting more worked up. "Is that where it's coming from then, all these doubts? Look, Char, something will come up soon, ok? Something you deserve. You're a good grifter, you just need the right opportunity…"

"LIZZY!" Charlotte shocked her. "I didn't fucking turn him down, ok? I'm going to do it. I'm going to work at Rosings Park with him."

Lizzy drew her hand away quickly, startled. Charlotte was still looking down at the floor, couldn't meet her eye. What the hell was she doing? Ok, so Charlotte wasn't the best grifter in the world, but she got by. She had skills, was a good poker player, was intelligent. She was also the funniest person Lizzy knew, a loyal friend, one who never cared what anyone thought of her. And now she was doing this? Going to work for that fucking creep? As a PA?

"You can't be serious." Lizzy stated, springing up and beginning to pace.

"I can. I'm leaving tomorrow."

"No, absolutely not," Lizzy raised her voice. "I won't let you. You're not thinking straight Charlotte, you're just having a bad day. The mans an idiot, an odious, pervy little shit. No, you can't work for him, it'll be a disaster."

"I knew I'd be able to rely on your support." Charlotte muttered, causing Lizzy to get angry.

"What did you expect me to say, Charlotte?" she fumed. "Oh, great job, what an opportunity to be a secretary, away from all your friends? I'm sure you'll have a absolutely swinging time with Billy boy Collins and her ladyship Catherine? Well done Char, fucking ace decision making there, kid…"

"YES!" Charlotte stood up, getting in Lizzy's face. "That's what I fucking expect you to say. You are my friend, Lizzy, my best fucking friend! I need you to be happy for me, ok? For once, it's not all about you!"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Lizzy snarled, not backing down.

"Oh, come on!" Charlotte pushed her lightly in he chest. "Do you ever stop to think, just for a second, that maybe your opinions and judgements are just that, fucking _yours_? They're not gospel, the world isn't always how you see it! So yeah, Billy's a bit weird, a bit of an idiot. So the fuck what? He's offered me an opportunity, Lizzy, one that I've decided to take. I'm not good enough to play the long con, not good enough to be the next Will Darcy. I have to take what I can get. Just cos something's not for you, doesn't mean it's not for everyone. Can't you just accept that?"

"I can't just sit by and watch you make the biggest mistake of your life!" Lizzy threw her arms up in the air.

Charlotte looked at her, anger in her eyes. Let out a deep breath.

"Well, thanks very much, Lizzy," she said coldly. "Sometimes I think Frances is right about you after all."

"Don't fucking say that!" Lizzy warned in a low tone, her whole body was shaking with anger.

"Hurts, doesn't it?" Charlotte whispered. "Hurts to have your friend turn on you when you need them most. I don't know why I expected anything else, Bennet. Why at all…"

With a last glare, Charlotte threw the forgotten spliff into the river and walked away.

"Charlotte!" Lizzy called, but Charlotte didn't turn around, just thrust a middle finger up in the air.

Lizzy howled in frustration and span around to face the river, breathing heavily and clutching onto the railings for support. Watched as the spliff began to disintegrate, drifting away down the river…..


	11. Glim Dropper

Charlie Bingley had disappeared. For the first couple of weeks, Lizzy and Jane had thought nothing of it, ok so he hadn't been in contact, but they hadn't really expected him to be. But then the days passed, the weeks passed, and still no word. He had dropped off the grid completely. Jane was attempting to put up a front, but Lizzy could tell she was heartbroken. She took to staying in a lot, not going out to work, shutting herself in her bedroom. Lizzy didn't know what to do. She hadn't anticipated this. From the moment he met her, Lizzy was so sure that he was completely and utterly smitten with Jane, so sure that they'd end up together. It just didn't make any sense. Even if she had misjudged his feelings, which she was certain she hadn't, wasn't he supposed to be in London setting up a new crew? Didn't he say himself that he might even have the first mark?

Maybe he got spooked. Maybe the police attention had scared him more than he had been willing to admit. But still, it didn't seem like a good enough reason. No, Lizzy began to suspect something else, something that was confirmed on a Thursday morning when she walked in the kitchen to see Jane staring blankly at her laptop, tear tracts present.

"Janey?" she asked, concerned.

"An email from Caroline." Jane said, emotionlessly.

"About time!" Lizzy exclaimed, hoping that some answers would finally be given.

"She says that she's staying up in Manchester."

"And Charlie?" Lizzy asked with trepidation.

"Not coming back to London any time soon," Jane said, her voice still robotic. "She says that Darcy has hooked him up with a crew. He's going to sell the Sydney Opera House for fuck sake. Be out of the country for six months at least. He's leaving in four months."

"Oh, Jane…." Lizzy pulled up a chair next to her and engulfed her in hug that was not returned. Jane was in shock.

"I just thought…"

"I know Jane."

Lizzy had never felt more alone. Charlotte was gone, Jane was in a funk over Charlie, hell even Lydia was more distant these days, disappearing for weeks at a time, reappearing briefly and then swanning off again. Who knows what that girl was up to. London just didn't feel the same anymore. She'd always had a close circle of friends, she wasn't the most sociable of human beings and she understood she could be difficult at times, therefore didn't have legions of numbers in her phone. With Jane off the radar and Charlotte in Vegas, she was lonely. The more she was on her own, the more she found herself looking back in disgust at some of her behaviour. She still believed she had a point about a lot of things, Charlotte in particular, but she knew she should have supported her friend. Ever since Darcy and fucking Charlie 'the dickhead' Bingley, as she had taken to calling him, had come to town, she had not been herself. She'd been mean and selfish and horrible. They weren't attractive qualities. Yes, Darcy and Caroline had been a nightmare, but she should have rose above it. Ironically, when she thought these things, she just got more annoyed at herself for continuing to think about them. She still had the feeling that something didn't add up somewhere, that there was somehow something she was missing, Darcy and his crews visit just didn't sit quite right. There had been moments in their time in London, just fleeting but moments, where she thought she may have glimpsed a bigger picture, something at play that she wasn't supposed to be privy to. Again, she was being ridiculous, she knew that. It didn't matter, they were gone. Leaving her sister behind to pick up the pieces of her heart.

Came back to the same thing.

They were grifters.

They were not nice people.

Any hopes that she could have cured her loneliness through George had been quelled, she'd heard he had shacked up with Mary King, a pickpocket who was distinctly lacking in personality. It didn't bother her as much as she thought it would. To be honest, her interest had cooled anyway due to the flakiness of his character, and she had heard a couple of whispers around town that were less than complimentary towards him. Perhaps she had dodged one. But it would be nice to be paid some attention to occasionally, nice to have a laugh and a flirt. Instead she was stuck in a disused office building in Neasden with Cyclops.

They'd decided to do a few jobs together, seeing as they were both at a loose end. At least Cyclops had a bit more ambition about him than the rest of the Bennets. He wouldn't play the long con, and truth be told, he wasn't good enough to, but they planned and executed a few decent grifts that required more thought and planning than the average Pigeon Drop. She was making good money too. But it wasn't as fun as running around the city with Jane, Charlotte, or even Lydia. It was more mechanical, completely about the results and the paper they made. She remembered vaguely something Darcy had said once in that dreadful evening she had spent with his friends. He had been writing to his sister, the sadness an aura around him, and Caroline had yet again struck up a pointless conversation that he clearly didn't want to have. They were talking about grifting, and he had remarked, in a bored tone, that the game was not about the money. Not at all. She had scoffed at the time, but she was beginning to think he was right. She missed the rip and run, the element of surprise, the way they'd pick a mark off the street for being a twat and resolve to teach him a lesson. That was grifting in the purest sense. What her and Cyclops were doing was working.

This was why she wanted to play the Long Con. She wanted to plan her own scores, take money from those who deserved to have it taken from them, and do it in the most audacious of ways. She wanted that buzz that only that could give her. She was making rack after rack for a few months, but she wasn't happy.

She missed Jane.

God, she missed Charlotte.

* * *

One day in late spring, a few days after they were finally free of their probation orders, something came up that she thought could maybe help Jane out. She had waited and waited for her to get over Charlie, been as patient as she could, but this was getting ridiculous. Lizzy was single handedly paying the rent on their place, don't get her wrong, she was happy to cover it and earning more than enough, but it wasn't healthy for Jane to be like this any longer. She needed to move past it. Occasionally when Lizzy was feeling particularly frustrated with her sister, she got angry. I mean, ok, it was clear she felt a lot for Charlie, but she'd only known him about a month for God sake. Knew it was harsh, but still. Just under three months had passed since his departure, it was time to change. And if moving forward meant going backwards, then Lizzy was happy to help.

A job had come up in Manchester, a one off longish con with a crew headed up by an associate of Cyclops. The con required someone who knew their stuff when it came to art as they were doing a spin on the Art Student scam, a con popular in China but that had fed over to Britain in the last few years. It was only a very minor part in the play, but Jane was perfect for it, and she persuaded Cyclops to recommend her. Not only was it a good chance for Jane to get back to work with something she could do in her sleep, it would also be an opportunity for her to go and see Charlie and get some closure. According to Caroline's email, he wasn't leaving the country for another month, and she had their address. After hours of convincing and cajoling, even bribing, Jane agreed reluctantly to go and meet with the crew. She was delighted and surprised when Jane accepted the job offer. Perhaps they could put a line under this whole thing, and they could go back to how it used to be.

Jane left a few days later, and Lizzy waited nervously for her return, the doubts that always plagued her nibbling away. It was the problem with being a grifter and having all your friends be grifters as well. Nothing was guaranteed. Everyday was a battle of nerves as you prayed that your friends didn't get caught up in anything, be it police attention, or the wrong mark and the consequences that could come with that. It never went away, and it wasn't a pleasant way to live. But it was how it was, it was the choice they made.

Jane came back late on Tuesday night, Lizzy had been dozing on the sofa with some awful reality show and a half finished take out box. Sprang up when she heard the door click shut.

"Jane?" she asked, blearily.

"Jesus, Lizzy, this place is a shit hole!" Jane laughed. It had been a rare sound the last few months. "I go away for four days and this is how I find you living?"

"Fuck all that, how did it go?" Lizzy asked, settling back on the sofa as Jane did the same.

"Good," Jane smiled, eyes alight. "The score went perfectly. 5k haul each, not bad for three days work. God, it was good to be back Lizzy! I mean, it wasn't the biggest of parts in the plan, but I managed to impress them. They said they'd look me up if anything else came up as well!"

"That's great, Jane," Lizzy smiled, warmly. "Nice to see you smiling again. Nothing like a bit of adrenaline and cash to cheer you up!"

"I know. I'm sorry for how I've been acting, Lizzy. It's pretty pathetic really, I'm cringing just thinking about it. All those fucking Bright Eyes songs…."

"Bright Eyes songs are built for this kind of thing, Jane," Lizzy chuckled. "If you'd started going to Joy Division, that's when I would have got worried and started hiding the knives."

"It wasn't going to go that far…"

Lizzy almost didn't want to bring up the other thing, not when it seemed she was getting the old Jane back, but she knew she had to.

"And did you um… did you see….."

"Smooth segue, Lizzy," Jane laughed. "Very smooth. Did I see the Bingley's? Well, yes and no."

"What do you mean?"

"I called Caroline when I got to Manchester, said I'd be around on Monday if she wanted to meet up. She was a little reluctant, said she had a lot on, but that she'd come by my hotel on Monday afternoon if she could."

"Did she turn up?"

"Yeah, eventually. I waited all day and she finally deigned me with her presence at about four o'clock. Said she only had half an hour. God, she was so fucking rude, Lizzy, kept slagging off London, saying that Charlie hadn't been able to find any decent grifters and that someone had been talking to the Filth about them…"

"So, Charlie was more spooked by the police than he was letting on." Lizzy said, confirming her suspicion.

"I get the feeling that he had to be persuaded, not that it took much, obviously." Jane said, bitterly.

"And what about Charlie?"

"He's gone," Jane replied, the first hint of sadness entering her voice. "Caroline kept going on and on about what great work he was doing, how she was hoping he'd meet a girl out in Australia. Did you know he's selling the Sydney Opera House to some sucker? Bit showy offy if you ask me…"

"Quite." Lizzy held back a smirk.

"So yeah, then she got up and said she had to go. She was there about ten minutes. You were right about her, Lizzy. She's just a fucking bitch. And Charlie's just dickhead. I'm done with them. I've wasted way too much time making excuses for him, feeling angry at him, feeling sorry myself. Shit happens, some people are just cunts."

"Jane!" Lizzy laughed, slightly shocked.

I mean, come on, she didn't believe it. Didn't believe that one weekend, a disastrous meeting with Caroline, and calling Charlie every name under the sun was enough to say Jane was over him. Not for a second. But it was a start, a good start, one they could work with.

"Well, I'm glad," Lizzy looked around for something to toast with, only coming up with two slices of cold pizza, handing one to Jane. "Here's to us, and never thinking about those cunts again!"

"Cheers." Jane toasted, and Lizzy stuffed the whole slice in her mouth, covering her face in cheese and tomato, causing Jane to choke with laughter. They were silent for a while, munching away on the less than delicious pizza.

"I spoke to Charlotte today." Jane broke the silence, looking sideways at Lizzy, as if to gage her reaction.

Lizzy's joy at being reunited with the real Jane evaporated as she was faced with another one of her mistakes. She couldn't believe she'd let her relationship crumble with her friend like that. What had she been thinking? Why couldn't she have just supported her, even if she thought it was a mistake (which she still did by the way)? But no, classic Lizzy Walker. Speaking before thinking, judging before she had it straight, being, all in all, a fucking twat.

"How is she?" she asked, quietly.

"Good," Jane replied. "She likes it out there. I mean, of course she does, it's fucking Vegas! Cradle of our civilization Lizzy!"

It was an attempt at a joke, but Lizzy was still lost in her thought and self loathing.

"She misses you." Jane said, softly.

"I doubt it. God, I was awful, Jane! I mean, like, really harsh. Too harsh."

"You were just trying to look out for her."

Lizzy laughed humourlessly.

"Funny, that's what Frances was saying when she was saying all those horrible things to me. Am I as bad as fucking _Frances_?"

"I think that would be impossible," Jane smiled. "Look, you just sometimes go a bit overboard. Everyone does from time to time. And this crisis of self confidence you've been having the last few months has hardly been helping…"

"What do you mean?"

"You've been a bit funny. And don't blame it on Darcy and Caroline, it's been going on a while. I don't know, Lizzy, it's like you think you're going to be stuck here forever, like you think that you need to accelerate everything. I know you want to move up in the world, play the Long Con, but can you honestly say you're ready for that? These things take time, Lizzy, you can't rush them. You're only twenty three."

"Darcy was doing scores at this age…" she said, sullenly.

"Darcy's a special case, despite what you may want to think. And he had advantages that you don't, Lizzy. He had connections and _money,_ on top of his own genius."

"Can we please stop calling him a genius?"

"Face the facts, Lizzy," Jane laughed. "All this as well, this hatred of Darcy, trying to beat him at everything, trying to impress him, because that's what you were doing even if you didn't realise it at the time, don't deny it."

"Yeah, I came to that conclusion as well." Lizzy sighed.

"You don't need to, ok? It turns you into someone you're not. It'll come Lizzy, in time. You're going to have the world, remember?"

Lizzy smiled at the words, remembered when she'd first uttered them to Jane when they had only just met and were absolutely trashed. Had expected Jane to laugh at her, but she hadn't. She'd just looked at her, deadly serious, and nodded as if she believed her. As if she totally believed that Lizzy was going to reach the stars and higher.

"For fuck sake, I thought we were sorting your shit out!" Lizzy joked, easing the tension.

"Alright, alright," Jane surrendered with a yawn. "I'm going to bed, it's been a long few days. But, Lizzy, talk to Charlotte, ok? Sort this shit out. I know she wants to speak to you, although she's too proud to admit it, the stubborn bitch. Remind you of anyone?"

"Piss off and go back to your Bright Eyes CD's!" Lizzy called at Jane's retreating form, voice laced with humour.

Jane was right.

She needed to sort her shit out.

* * *

For a while though, she couldn't face it. She was too embarrassed, a bit ashamed of herself, downright scared to pick up the phone. Every night after they got back from work, Jane asked her if she'd called Charlotte yet, rolling her eyes and tutting when Lizzy replied with a negative. Finally, a couple of weeks later, Lizzy plucked up the courage and dialled her friend. She was pretty relieved when it went to voicemail, until she realised she was supposed to leave a message. What the fuck was she gonna say? She had to say something, she'd remained silent for about twenty seconds already.

"So, um, Charlotte, what's up?"

Is that the best she could do, she cringed? What's up? God, she was emotionally stunted.

"Yeah, um… I'm good here, you know and all that um…. um"

This was going from bad to worse. She should have planned something, should have written some fucking bullet points. She sighed into the phone.

"Well, actually it's all a bit shit, Char, it ain't the same without you here. I miss you. And I'm so fucking sorry for being a dick, you know? You were right, as usual. So um… yeah… just call me back or something if you want. Um, if you don't they'll be, like, no hard feelings, I probably deserve it. No scratch that, fucking call me back, please, because I love you and I'm a dick and I miss you and your… face. Yes, I miss your face. Um… cool…. See you. Well, I won't actually see you, seeing as you're in Vegas and I'm in London, but you know what I mean.. Oh fucking hell, Christ, right bye. Yeah um bye."

Lizzy pressed end call and buried her head in her hands. That was so embarrassing. Couldn't she just be a normal human being? Put her in a short con with strangers, she was the epitome of smooth, charming, funny, cool. But in a real situation with real people she cared about, she was just a mess. A lot of grifters found that. You had to be a bit messed up to do what they did, it wasn't a normal life. They could turn it on, they could act the part, be anything someone wanted them to be, but when it came to the real stuff, the honest stuff, the stuff that actually mattered, they were always going to struggle. Even Jane in all her sweetness found it. On top of that was their childhoods, the stunted growth, the things they'd seen or experienced that they should never have had to. When the very first thing you learnt about yourself was that you'd been abandoned, it was difficult not to see it all differently to others. But Lizzy knew it could no longer be an excuse. She was past that now, she was a fully functioning and (mostly) emotionally stable woman. The past is not an excuse. Time to grow up, as Frances had said.

* * *

She spent the rest of the evening just staring at her phone, hoping against hope that Charlotte would call back, that she hadn't ruined everything between them. Charlotte was one of the first people to ever take her seriously, her first and perhaps only true friend outside the Bennets. When she had been a mouthy kid, all rage and sadness, Charlotte had been patient with her, had persevered like no-one else ever had. She could have just walked away, got sick of Lizzy's shit and told her to fuck off. But she didn't. Her and Jane never had.

Finally the phone rang.

For a moment, Lizzy convinced herself she shouldn't answer it. She should run away and hide. But she remained strong and picked up.

"Hahahahahahahaha…." Charlotte's laughter came through from the other end, sounding like the most beautiful thing in the world to Lizzy.

"Charlotte?"

"Hahahahahahahahah! Fucking hell, Lizzy, that was probably one of the worst and embarrassing voicemails anyone's ever left. Hahahahaha!"

"Do not mock my heartfelt and very eloquent apology." Lizzy grinned into the phone.

"Oh, Jesus!" Charlotte gasped. "I would have loved to have seen the look on your face when you finally hung up! _Oh, Charlotte, I miss your face_ …"

"God, I didn't say that did I?" Lizzy cringed.

"Twice!" Charlotte almost shouted. "Seriously, you have some real emotional issues, Lizzy! Normal people just say sorry and then hang up. Why didn't you just write an email? At least then you would've been able to get a normal person like Jane to rewrite it for you. Mate, you are something else…."

"Are we still mates then?" Lizzy said in a small voice, the doubts returning.

"Course we are, kid," Charlotte laughed. "We had a fight and you were a dick. I mean, you know, more than usual, cos usually you're a dick anyway, but.."

"I am not a dick usually!" Lizzy said, indignantly.

"Yes you are." Charlotte said, shortly.

"Ok, maybe I am. But, I am really sorry, Char. I should have been a better friend and I'm so sorry and…."

"Alright, alright," Charlotte chuckled, interrupting. "I think one rambling apology is enough. Besides, some good has come out of this."

"What's that?" Lizzy asked, confused. She couldn't see anything good that had resulted from their fight.

"I now have some of the best blackmail material ever!" Charlotte roared with laughter. "Seriously, I play that voicemail at the Jack Hammer, your reputation will be in ruins! Mwahahah!"

"You play that to anyone and I'll kill you." Lizzy warned.

"Lizzy, you're supposed to be grovelling, remember," she could hear the smirk in Charlotte's voice. "Apologising for being a prick, not threatening to kill me."

"Whatever," Lizzy grumbled. "I've apologised now, so can we just drop it?"

"You're so emotionally retarded," Charlotte laughed. "Fine, fine, let's forget about it, yeah. Onto the more important business. So, when you coming out to see me?"

"I have a record, Charlotte," Lizzy explained. "I've only just got off probation. No way will they let me in. Actually, come to think of it, how the fuck did you get a working visa? You've been banged up more times than OJ…."

"Catherine knows people," Charlotte revealed. "It won't be a problem, she can get you in."

"Aren't you working all the time? I don't really want to be hanging around all day, waiting for you to finish."

"Yeah, cos a grifter can't find anything to do in Las Vegas for a day," Charlotte said, dryly. "Besides, this job is so cushty, Lizzy! Some days, I do nothing, it's great! Billy's team are all so much better than him at their jobs, so they just get on with it, leaving Billy, therefore me, with like one or two things to do. I mean, I have to go to these awful board meetings every now and again and take notes, but it's a small price to pay. And fucking _Vegas_ , Lizzy! You'd love it, and probably hate it at the same time. It's that sort of place. Luckily, most days I love it. You have to come. I heard you've been building up quite the stack the last few months, so money is not an excuse."

"How'd you hear that?"

"I speak to Jane, Lizzy."

"Surprised she even noticed. Been shutting herself in her room crying over dickhead Bingley for weeks…"

"She sounded better the other day."

"Yeah, she's getting there," Lizzy sighed. "I mean, she's still heartbroken, but at least she's trying to hide it now. Makes me feel a lot more comfortable, knowing I don't have to try to, like, _be there_ for her."

"Fucking hell, Lizzy," Charlotte laughed. "I've missed you and your social awkwardness. I feel for Jane though, heartbroken and only having you to talk to. How did you manage?"

"Oh, you know, I just kind of patted her on the back a bit and then changed the subject." Lizzy mumbled.

"That poor girl," Charlotte chuckled. "I'm sure you did your best. So, how about next month then?"

"Next month?"

"For you to come out to Vegas for a couple of weeks! I'll take as many days off as I can get away with, swing us a suite at Rosings too. Proper luxury."

"Why can't we stay at yours?"

"If you want to be harassed by Billy every night then we could," Charlotte groaned. "It's the one downside, he's always just popping in. It's alright, to be honest I've warmed to him. He's a fucking idiot, but he is pretty amusing to be around."

"I'm glad, Char," Lizzy said, she meant it to. "But yeah, let's stay at Rosings."

"Good, I'll make the arrangements. And Lizzy?"

"Yeah?"

"I miss your face too." Charlotte said quickly, putting the phone down.

Lizzy lay back, a slow grin forming on her face. Charlotte had forgiven her. She had her friend back.

She was going to Las fucking Vegas.

* * *

 **AN - Cheers for reading and all that. I'm quite enjoying this one, hope you are too. Let me know.**


	12. Peek the Poke

Las Vegas was one of those rare places that was exactly how you expected it to be, and yet seemed to be lost in its mess of contradictions. It was glamorous, glitzy, spectacular, seedy, pathetic, abhorrent, strangely beautiful, cheesy, ridiculous, garish, magnetic, disgusting, entirely false and most of all, entirely based on money, obsessed with it. Obsessed with those dollar bills.

In the end, it was in some ways the pinnacle of the western world, the natural conclusion to unchecked capitalism.

It was a place that was built on a fantasy.

Lizzy liked it. Not all of it, but most of it. She loved the decadence, the feeling that this was a place where anything went, a place where no-one was who they said they were, where no-one was good or decent. It was just Vegas, a grifters heaven.

It was only on her second day of a two week stay that she came to this conclusion. Her and Charlotte had already had so much fun, Lizzy was so happy to be back with her friend and back on good terms. She was even pleased to see she had been wrong, in the end Charlotte had made the right choice. It seemed like she could pretty much do what she wanted here and still get paid for it. She was basically living the dream really. They cruised the bars on their first night together, not keen to enter the majestic casino's quite yet. They'd had to address their falling out, otherwise it would hang over the holiday like a bad smell. They sorted it within five minutes, that was the great thing about Charlotte, and then let loose. They drank and danced, got chatted up and amused themselves by thinking of the most creative ways to turn blokes down. Charlotte already knew a fair few people, so conversation was never lacking. All in all, it had been great, and Lizzy was so glad she had swallowed her pride.

And we haven't even mentioned the suite.

Somehow, Charlotte had managed to swing the best of the best at Rosings Park, one of the top floor apartments, lavish in its design, and with a stunning view over the bright lights. If she had been impressed by the Netherfield, it was nothing compared to this. Billy had given her the full tour of the hotel and casino this morning, and you know what, part of her was actually pleased to see him again. She'd actually missed his weirdness. He was so unintentionally funny that spending any amount of time with him had become something of a joy. He was still an idiot, still couldn't go five minutes without bringing up his Ladyship, but even that grew more tolerable. Who was she turning into, Lizzy thought as she looked out over the city? She didn't know, but she thought she might like this version better. For the first time in a long while, she was happy.

So, of course, that's when everything went wrong.

* * *

She had a bad feeling about it anyway. Tonight was the night she was to meet Lady Catherine herself. She had been surprised by the invitation, even Charlotte had raised an eyebrow. Of course, she'd met the lady numerous times in a work related capacity, but she had never been invited to dinner after clocking off. Charlotte was being coy as well, every time Lizzy asked about the imposing figure, she'd just smirk and say 'you'll see soon enough'. It wasn't that Lizzy was nervous, not really, but her experiences with Darcy and his lot had only served to solidify her opinion of these rich folk. All in all, she really wasn't looking forward to it.

Nevertheless, she put on her best dress and made herself look presentable.

"You look stunning, Lizzy!" Charlotte exclaimed when she emerged.

"As do you." Lizzy smiled, and she was being truthful. It was strange to see Charlotte in anything that wasn't Doc Martens and ripped clothing, but she scrubbed up well. They were interrupted from their mutual ego boosting by a ring at the door, Billy to pick them up. As usual, he looked pretty ridiculous, dressed in the same white tux he'd worn to Bingley's shindig all those months ago. Thought she could still see the hints of a wine stain on it….

"Ladies, you look beautiful!" he effused as they stepped into the hallway.

"Looking dapper yourself, Billy." Lizzy smirked, Charlotte elbowing her in the ribs.

"Thank you, Lizzy," Billy continued on obliviously, beginning to lead them towards the elevator. "Now, before we go up, I must remind you of the importance of her ladyship and the honour that has been bestowed upon you. The lady rarely takes social calls, so it is imperative that you treat her with the respect she deserves."

"Jesus, Billy, we're not meeting the fucking Queen." Lizzy chuckled.

"As a matter of fact, you kind of are," Billy responded. "In Vegas, she is as close as it comes to royalty. And I know you mean well, Elizabeth, but can you please leave your vulgarity at the door. This is a civilised setting, and I am told there may well be some other extra important guests as well."

"Who?" Charlotte asked.

"No idea, you'd think as head of security I'd have been briefed, but as always, her ladyship knows best. Anyway, just make sure your manners are correct and you will be fine."

"I will be the perfect English Rose." Lizzy mocked in a breathy, girlish voice.

"Excellent, excellent," Billy nodded, missing the sarcasm, ushering them into the elevator and swiping his key on the panel. They began to ascend to a floor that Lizzy hadn't even been aware existed. "I know this must be very exciting for you, girls, particularly due to where you come from and the sheer disparity in situation, but I know that you will rise to the challenge!"

Whereas once Lizzy would have been mildly offended by his classism, now she just found it amusing. This whole evening had the potential to be one hell of a story to tell the others in the Jack Hammer. It was like a warped version of that fucking awful excuse for snobbery, Downton Abbey.

"Don't worry, Billy," Charlotte touched his arm. "It'll be fine."

"Of course," the elevator pinged as he spoke. "Well then, here we are! Remember what I said, ladies."

* * *

Lizzy stepped out first into the grand area. I mean, this was fucking insane. It was like she'd walked onto a different planet, like she was looking at space itself. The walls were entirely glass, creating a dome over their heads that encased them completely, almost a full 360 of Vegas and the heavens. They were with the stars here, gave the illusion of being almost at eye level with them. But what was stranger was the room itself. It was an indoor garden, teeming with greenery and water fountains, arranged in perfect symmetry. She could have been in some National Trust ground, it was so _English._ That school of centuries gone by English, an England of landowners ruling over peasants. Bad analogy, Lizzy quickly corrected herself. That description still applied to the England of today in a way, just replace landowners with CEO's and media moguls. It was just so bizarre, the opposite of what she had expected. Looked across at Charlotte who's expression of wonder mirrored her own. They were startled by a voice that echoed around the room, but seemed to have no source.

"Well, don't just gawk, ladies," the voice said in a snide tone. "I haven't got all evening and you're already approximately one minute and twenty three seconds late. Billy, we're in the lounge."

Lizzy smirked, before quickly rearranging her face, realising that who she assumed to be Lady Catherine was probably watching them. Billy did this ridiculous half bow thing to the omniscient voice and rushed them through the maze of garden. There was even real gravel under her feet, was beginning to regret the heels. Mind you, when you were invited to a formal dinner, you didn't expect to have to traipse through the Chelsea fucking Flower Show to get there. They advanced quickly, soon coming to a door that was almost entirely hidden by vines snaking all around them. Billy knocked twice and pushed the door open a fraction before pausing.

"Remember what I said." he muttered, sweating again. Should you really be this nervous to see your boss, Lizzy wondered? Before she even had time to laugh, the door was open and she was walking in.

"Lateness is not tolerated in this hotel." a voice called out.

Lizzy looked to her left to see the back of a chair, the occupant obviously gazing over the strip. The figure stood up slowly and turned around.

"So, what is your excuse?"

* * *

Lady Catherine was imposing, that was the only word for it. Lizzy put her age at around sixty, but she could have been much older for all she knew. She held herself with pride and superiority, expression pinched and deadly serious. There was no laugh lines, no lines at all in fact. Probably botox, Lizzy snorted inwardly. Her eyes were narrow, almost like slits, piercing gray and ever watchful. Never darting, just stone cold. So this was Lady Catherine De Bourgh, the Queen of Las Vegas.

"Well?" Catherine questioned.

"I apologise, your ladyship," Collins simpered, rushing forward to kiss her hand. "The ladies were getting ready."

Lizzy couldn't help but let out a snort at Billy's passing of the buck. Catherine looked at her sternly, but luckily made no comment.

"One must always be as immaculately turned out as one can be," Catherine appeared to concede, but her tone suggested a different angle. "However, to keep people waiting is a sin indeed."

"We apologise, Lady Catherine," Lizzy spoke up. She wasn't going to be afraid of this woman. "It won't happen again."

Catherine looked at her for what was genuinely a full thirty seconds without saying anything. Lizzy really didn't know what was going to happen next.

"No, it won't," Catherine spoke after a while and began to walk towards her. She moved with grace and dignity, slow but assured, confidence oozing from her. "My name is Lady Catherine De Bourgh, owner of this hotel."

Catherine held out her hand in a way that suggested Lizzy was supposed to kiss it as Billy had.

Fuck that.

"Elizabeth Bennet," Lizzy grasped her hand in a shake firmly. Catherine looked for a moment surprised by the handshake, but Lizzy swore she saw a hint of an approving smirk on the woman's face. "It's an honour to meet you."

"Yes, I expect it is," Catherine said, snootily, before turning her attention to Charlotte. "And Miss Lucas, it is good to see you again. How goes your time at Rosings?"

Lizzy was surprised by the question, but realised that Catherine was probably just observing the niceties and making sure Charlotte had the opportunity to praise her and her empire.

"It has been wonderful," Charlotte gushed, causing Lizzy to roll her eyes and the blatant sucking up. "I have been truly blessed to be presented with this opportunity."

"Yes, you have," Catherine nodded, sitting down on a chair that could only be described as a throne, gesturing for them to sit on the sofas surrounding it. Lizzy almost had a heart attack when she realised that they were not alone, a small and pale looking young woman was sat right there in front of them.

"Certainly an unorthodox route into the job," Catherine sneered. "From working The Flop to pushing pens in an instant."

"Well…." Charlotte attempted to say something, but she was cut off.

"Relax, dear," Catherine snapped, causing the opposite of her words. "I've always prided myself on my charity work. Besides, it's not like you're doing anything particularly important. Oh, of course, this is my daughter Anne by the way. Sit up straight Anne, for God's sake!"

The girl called Anne started and rearranged her posture, sending a timid smile and wave to all of them, never making eye contact.

"Greet them properly, Anne!" Catherine said sternly. "If only I could have sent you to that finishing school….. Anne suffers from her ill health you see, so I thought it was best for her to remain by my side."

She talked about her own daughter as if she wasn't there, and the way Anne just looked at her shoes told Lizzy that it was a regular occurrence. An image of Frances suddenly popped into her mind for some reason. It made Lizzy grin to think of how insulted Catherine would be if she knew she was being compared to such a person.

"You, Elizabeth!" Catherine brought her round. "You seem to smile a lot."

"Does it offend you?" Lizzy said lightly, feeling Billy pinch her arm in horror.

"I don't know," Catherine mused, before dropping the subject entirely. "Now, what were we talking about? Oh yes, Charlotte, your new position."

"As I said, it's going great," Charlotte replied, purposefully not looking at Lizzy, probably knowing she'd see the mockery. "I thank you so much for everything…"

"It's going so great that you can already afford to take time off?" Catherine said sharply. "Forgive me, but I didn't realise I was running a spring break for you and your friends. Staying in room 2004 aren't you? Despite the fact that I have provided you with very generous accommodation and a company car, making the commute less than twenty minutes. Makes me wonder just how grateful you are…"

"Well, see…." Charlotte began nervously.

"It's my fault, Lady Catherine," Lizzy jumped in front of the bullet. "I'd just heard so many things about the majesty of Rosings Park, that I insisted on staying here. I apologise, it was impertinent and unfair, but this place is just so legendary that I couldn't pass up the opportunity of seeing it for myself. It may be my only chance, seeing as I can never expect to be in such esteemed company again due to my circumstances. I still can't quite believe you are going to such trouble for us…."

Lizzy was quite pleased with her little performance, she thought she'd read Catherine already, thought she'd hit the right buttons, praising her and her social status.

She was wrong.

Catherine narrowed her already narrowed eyes.

"Do you take me for a fool, Miss Bennet?" she began. "You think that flattery and bare faced lying will serve you well? Anyone with half a brain can see that you didn't mean a single word of that little speech. My guess is that you find this whole situation an amusement, do you not?"

"Not at all." Lizzy managed to splutter out. This woman really was something else. She had expected a parody, an up themselves aristocrat who obliviously heard what she wanted to hear.

"Hm….," Catherine noised, but again Lizzy thought she saw the hint of that smirk again. "At least you made the effort I suppose. You have talked your way into remaining in my hotel. But you will be back to work tomorrow, Charlotte, understand? And, Elizabeth, it will not work again, don't think that you have gained any sort of victory. You can stay because you have amused me slightly, that is it. Now please, from now on, refrain from any falsehood. It doesn't suit you half as well as you think it does."

Lizzy nodded, confused by what was occurring. It was all a bit surreal.

"Billy," Catherine turned her attentions away, seemingly bored by her for now. "I've had the board run over those projections…"

Catherine was cut off by a crash from behind the door that they had entered before.

* * *

"Fucking hell! Fucking vines and fucking plants all over the fucking place!" a muffled voice was heard by all. Even through the door, she could detect the pleasant Scottish lilt. Again, Lizzy couldn't help but smile at the mystery intruder's voice, quickly covering her mouth as Catherine looked her way.

"For God's sake." Catherine rolled her eyes.

The swearing died down, and after a struggle, the door opened and a youngish man almost fell through it, causing the swearing to start up again. Catherine just pursed her lips, in a manner that suggested this was not at all the first time it had happened. The man stood up straight, taking a quick glance around the room, passing over them as if he didn't register them, as if he was looking around for something else far more important. Lizzy was sure she had seen him before, but couldn't quite place him. He was around six foot with messy brown hair that looked like it needed a cut. He wore thick rimmed glasses and unkempt stubble. Thin in a rakish way, he wasn't classically handsome, a bit pale and chic geek, but he exuded confidence.

"That bloody garden will be the death of me, Lady C!" he grumbled good naturedly, striding across the room, one hand in his pocket. He still hadn't looked at them. "Soon I'll have to come up with a machete to hack my way through."

"Oh, please, like you could wield a machete," Catherine said, disdainfully. "Every time I see you, you look thinner and paler. And could I please have my Blackjack dealer back? How you attract these women looking like an anaemic ghost is beyond me. She didn't show up for her shift again tonight, and was last seen disappearing into the Bellagio on your arm."

"Alright, alright," the man chuckled, letting out a whoop of triumph when he located the drinks carousel, pouring himself a more than generous measure of whiskey. Again, Lizzy laughed slightly, a man after her own heart. "Don't blame me if she has trouble concentrating though. It has been quite the wild ride for her…"

"Please…" Catherine said, disgust laced through every syllable, only causing the man to laugh loudly again.

"Just keeping your staff happy, Lady C!" he joked, his back still to them, hand emerging from his pocket.

"Hmm. You better not have been feeding her too much from room service either. If she has put on an ounce of weight she'll have to look elsewhere for work."

"Don't worry, we burned the calories off, if you know what I mean!" he finally turned to face them, eyes on Catherine They were sparkling behind the convex, clearly he was thoroughly enjoying himself. Lizzy wondered who he could be, who had the balls to talk to Catherine like this. She counted herself as pretty brave individual, but even she had been reduced to a stuttering wreck in front of her.

"In case you hadn't noticed, we have guests," Catherine sneered at him. "Besides, where's…."

"On his way, just taking a call." he replied jovially, finally looking at them with smiling eyes.

"You're late enough as it is.." Catherine attempted to tell him off.

"Late? It's barely seven o'clock! You know, some parties I go to don't start until at least midnight."

"We are having dinner, not going to one of your sordid soirées."

"Sordid? I'll have you know the events I go to are the epitome of sophistication…. If by sophistication we mean mountains of cocaine and several former Miss Columbia's…"

Lizzy couldn't help but laugh again, causing Catherine to again admonish her with a look. She couldn't help it, this situation had turned even more bizarre with the appearance of this character. Still, just where had she seen him before….?

"So, hello everybody!" he waved with a laugh, bending down to kiss Catherine on the cheek. "Lady C, looking beautiful as ever. And Anne, my darling! When will you escape this prison and run away with me?"

Anne let out a squeak, which caused his face to fall into the briefest moment of sadness and pity. It was soon replaced as he turned to look at them.

"Billy Collins, my man! Good to see you again. Bloody hell, have you brought real life females with you? This is quite the turn of events, didn't know you had it in you…"

"Elizabeth Bennet and Charlotte Lucas, real life females." she smirked, offering her hand for him to shake. He looked at it, eyes dancing with amusement, grasped it and pulled her up so he could kiss her on both cheeks. Did the same with Charlotte.

"It's a pleasure, ladies!" he exclaimed, was trying not to make it obvious, but his eyes were on Lizzy as he spoke, almost appraising her. She was flattered by the attention, he was most amusing, not at all the kind of person she had expected to meet here.

He took his glasses off to clean them, and that was when Lizzy finally placed him. The figure from the photographs, the missing piece of the jigsaw…

"Richard Fitzwilliam," he spread his arms wide in introduction. "Long con artist, fixer, gambler, international lover and playboy, and finally, 2002 Edinburgh inter schools triple jump champion!"

Catherine's objections to his introductions were cut off by the sound of the door opening again. 'On his way', that's what Richard had said, she realised with a growing sense of dread. She was in Rosings Park with Lady Catherine De Bourgh, Richard Fitzwilliam had just shown up, so therefore…..

Surely not.

Surely life couldn't be this unfair.

"Ah, the man himself!" Richard exclaimed, looking at a point over her shoulder.

"Good evening, Aunt Catherine." a horribly familiar voice echoed around them room.

"Darling!" Catherine leapt up, rushing over to greet the new arrival.

She shut her eyes tight, grimacing in pain. God, life was a fucking bitch. Opened them to see Richard Fitzwilliam smirking at her for some reason. Took all her courage and willpower to stand up slowly and turn around to face the newcomer.

"Miss Bennet." he nodded as they made instant eye contact.

"Darcy."

* * *

 **AN. Hello, thanks for reading. What do you think of Catherine and Richard then? Coming up to some of my favourite chapters where a lot will be revealed. Obviously you all know the story, so not much of a reveal really, but still...**


	13. Bonneteau

"Miss Bennet."

"Darcy."

She held eye contact with him for longer than was probably appropriate. He was beautiful, there was no doubt about it. His hair was messier than she had remembered it being, grown out slightly. His stubble was pronounced and he was dressed in his normal suit attire that complemented him. She couldn't imagine him wearing anything else. His face seemed tired though, subtle dark rings were hanging off his eyes. Made her feel a flash of concern. She shook herself quickly in disgust. It was the problem with these types of people, the ridiculously good looking ones. They always had that edge over normal people, however much of a prick they were, they had still won life's lottery and could distract anyone with the results.

"What are you doing here?" she asked bluntly, not quite disguising the rudeness.

"I'm visiting my family, Miss Bennet." Darcy raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, right…."

"Miss Lucas, Mr Collins, good to see you again." Darcy finally broke her eye contact and greeted the others formally.

"Mr Darcy, I had no idea." Collins rushed forward to shake his hand, causing Darcy to wince slightly and Richard's smirk to become wider.

"Billy told me he had met you, but I had no idea you knew Miss Bennet and Miss Lucas, William." Catherine narrowed her eyes.

"Haven't you heard, Lady C?" Richard interrupted, full of mirth. "Will now goes by the name 'Picasso'….."

"Picasso?" Catherine snorted.

"I assure you, it is not a nickname I encourage." Darcy muttered.

"I should hope not," Catherine scorned. "It doesn't pay to mythologize your ridiculous games. Lord, if your mother and father could see what you are doing with their legacy…. Anyway, you were about to explain how you all know one and other. I do not appreciate being kept in the dark."

"We all met in London, Aunt," Darcy explained as he kissed her on the cheek. "At one of Charles Bingley's parties."

"Charles Bingley, isn't that one of your ridiculous band of Robin Hoods?" Catherine said in a disapproving tone. She obviously didn't care for Darcy's career choices.

"Wouldn't really describe what we do as Robin Hoodesque," Richard laughed. "We have done very well for ourselves and rarely wake up in the woods. Although saying that, there was this one time when I took a load of LSD…"

"Enough, Richard." Darcy said firmly, but Lizzy saw the smile that was present on his face. It was a smile with warmth that Lizzy hadn't really glimpsed before, it changed his countenance remarkably to be one that was almost pleasant. Richard held his hands up in apology and grinned back. Perhaps Darcy was capable of genuine human connection after all…

"Yes, enough, Richard," Catherine repeated. "I'm disappointed to hear that you are still involved with those sort of people, William. Surely you have quite enough work at Pemberley to occupy your time?"

"Indeed I do." Darcy conceded in a monotone, shooting Lizzy a quick glance.

'… _.he's looking at you again. He does that quite a lot you know."_

"Darcy's retired now, Aunt Catherine," Richard spoke up, it appeared he disliked being left out of conversations. "No more stealing from the rich and giving to …. well, himself."

"I'm glad to hear it. It's past time you two grew up."

Darcy nodded, but said nothing, letting an awkward silence descend on the group. Lizzy shifted uncomfortably, not sure what to do next. It was as if they were intruding in some twisted family drama that they had no place in. Leave it to Billy then to not notice the tension.

"I'm delighted to see you again so soon, Mr Darcy!" he said in a slimy tone. "We had quite the good time in London did we not? And I hope you can forgive me outmanoeuvring you on the Poker table at the Netherfield!"

Darcy's eyes flashed briefly with what could either have been anger or amusement, Lizzy couldn't tell, but he just nodded again, conforming back to his silent type rules.

"You must be quite the hotshot if you were able to take money off Darcy," Richard addressed Collins, but it was clear he was mocking him. "Hell of a poker player, this man."

"I have my moments." Billy bowed, even Catherine looked like she might laugh at him.

"Who won that game in the end anyway?" Charlotte piped up for the first time. She appeared to be intimidated by the whole situation.

Lizzy looked at Darcy again, who was gazing intently back at her. Those eyes were sure intense, she shuddered.

"Um…."

"I believe it remains to be seen." Darcy said coolly.

Lizzy broke eye contact and saw Charlotte's furrowed brow out of the corner of her eye, eyes flicking between her and Darcy. Richard's smirk just grew wider and wider as the conversation continued. Lizzy had no idea what Darcy had meant with his words, they both knew who had won. That was supposed to be the end of it, supposed to be the last time she had to see this objectionable man. But here she fucking was, in Las Vegas of all places, face to face with him again. Why, God? Just why?

"Enough of all this," Catherine raised her voice, rudely. "William, you haven't even greeted Anne yet."

"Of course, my apologies." Darcy strode over to where Anne was sitting, quiet as a mouse. Lizzy saw her face light up as Darcy approached, and also saw a genuine smile on his face as well. They greeted each other affectionately, like old friends would. Even caught Anne giving him a slight roll of the eyes directed towards Catherine. Interesting. Had she made yet another incorrect judgement? This place was throwing her off her game, she was entirely out of her comfort zone.

' _Rumour is he's marrying her daughter in exchange for ownership of Pemberley.'_

"Good," Catherine nodded at them approvingly. "Time for dinner, I think."

"Don't suppose we're actually having anything remotely edible this time?" Richard sighed, Catherine giving him a withering stare. "No, of course not…."

* * *

Dinner was as excruciating as Lizzy thought it would be, maybe even more so. Worst of all, she was sat next to Darcy, and his presence did nothing to help her relax. Of course, even if he wasn't there she wouldn't have been able to relax anyway, due to Catherine's incessant questioning of her. Her ladyship appeared to have taken quite the interest in her, for reasons that she could not fathom. She was just a short con player from North London, she was of no consequence to somebody like this. But apparently, she was.

"Let me get this straight," Catherine was reacting to Lizzy's revelation of what she did for a living. "You run around London with a gang of thugs taking peoples money, and you call it a job?"

"It's how I earn a living," Lizzy shrugged, not in the least bit ashamed. "And I wouldn't describe us as thugs at all."

"How would you describe yourself then? Working class heroes?" Catherine sneered sarcastically, aggressively stabbing into her chicken.

"Oh, I would never be so deluded," Lizzy laughed. "But I only ever take money from people who a) can afford it, and b) deserve to be taken. It's all checks and balances see."

"No, I don't think I follow." Catherine said, sternly.

"I think what Miss Bennet is saying is that although what she does for a living is illegal by the laws of society, it is also in some ways a necessary counterbalance. Grifters should always live by a code, not only does it make us feel better about ourselves, but it also ensures that we can actually do some good. Think about the first rule of the con: you can't cheat an honest man. It's what everything is built on, that one shining principle. If you are honest, if your character is pure, then there is no way you can be taken in by people like us. However, if someone is dishonest, if they want something for nothing, that's where we come in. Feed that greed and then take it all away from them. They learn a lesson, and can hopefully realise that they need to be a more selfless human being."

Silence followed Darcy's words. Lizzy couldn't really have put it better herself. She saw Catherine's look of disapproval at her nephew words, but she had expected nothing less. It surprised her that Catherine still had so much affection for Darcy, considering how she clearly thought he was wasting his time with the long con. She didn't get it. That was fine. The tense silence was interrupted by Richard, who was sat on her other side, slow clapping.

"An excellent speech, Picasso…"

"Do not call me that." Darcy sighed wearily.

"Fine, an excellent speech, William! Of course, it was fucking bullshit, but anyway."

"You don't live by a code then, Richard?" Lizzy asked him.

"I'll take anyone's money if they're stupid enough to give it away!" he replied, jovially.

"He's joking." Darcy whispered to her, his hot breath on her neck.

"Yes I am, but…" Richard mused, suddenly serious. "I'm all for that code business in the main, indeed working with this morally superior wanker it has been a prerequisite. However, I do not think we should delude ourselves as to what we do. It's very well saying that all we do is feed peoples greed, but at the end of the day, greed is a natural human state. Look at the people in this very casino now, playing the tables, wanting something for not very much at all. Can we say they are bad people, can we say they deserve to have their money taken from them, just because they want something more out of life? No, I don't think we can. So, you have to be careful when making these sweeping generalisations, it's a case by case thing. Being able to tell the difference between the desperate, the hopeful and then the plain greedy, that is the key to keeping ourselves above the line."

Darcy nodded at him and smiled to himself. Lizzy found herself agreeing with his perceptions on grifting. Catherine on the other hand, just made a 'hmph' noise.

"I didn't know you were such a philosopher, Richard," Catherine said, dryly. "Do you agree with him, Miss Bennet?"

"In the most part," Lizzy nodded. "I am aware of the grey area we exist in."

"Billy says you have siblings?" Catherine changed track, throwing Lizzy slightly off balance. "Do they also make their living's in such a dishonest way?"

"They do," Lizzy smirked. "I have many 'siblings' although we are not strictly family. We work together to achieve the same ends."

"Just how many of these 'siblings' do you have?"

"To be honest, there are too many to count!" Lizzy laughed. "Let me see, I have about six 'brothers' and eight or nine 'sisters'."

"Good heavens!" Catherine exclaimed. "That many?"

"I am only really close to a few of them," Lizzy explained. "I have two, well three sisters, one older and two younger, that I am most fond of and who I work mainly with. Billy and Darcy have both met them."

"Charming young ladies," Billy nodded, before catching the look on Catherine's face. "But of course, I in no way condone their actions…."

"Do you not try to dissuade the younger girls from following in your footsteps?" Catherine asked incredulously. "Do you not think you should encourage them to earn an honest living instead?"

"I think it would be quite hypocritical of me to do so," Lizzy pondered the question. She hadn't really thought about it before. "To say that they shouldn't be doing something when I myself am? No, I think it would probably have the opposite intended effect."

Catherine appraised her with those narrow slits. Lizzy held her gaze firmly, although she did want to look away. She wouldn't admit defeat though. She really couldn't work this woman out, she was perhaps the most complicated puzzle Lizzy had ever attempted. She clearly didn't approve of grifting, yet she welcomed Darcy and put up with Richard's jokes, acted with superiority but spent all her time asking someone so clearly 'beneath' her like Lizzy questions, and Lizzy still couldn't tell if she was really so disapproving or if she found it all an amusing distraction.

"You do give your opinions freely, don't you, Miss Bennet?" Catherine observed, but again, the tone couldn't be placed. Was it a grudging respect, was it dislike? No idea.

"I am merely doing my best to be honest with you, Lady Catherine." Lizzy said, harking back to the conversation before Darcy had arrived.

"How old are you?" Catherine swerved again.

"I'm twenty three, I think. Give or take a year either way."

"How can you not know how old you are?" Richard laughed.

Lizzy looked down in embarrassment. It wasn't her fault she had grown up in a group home, not her fault that no-one there had had any idea past a name who she actually was. She had been abandoned so early on in her life and she had been so small apparently, that no-one could actually work out anything about her. There were no medical records, no birth certificates, nothing behind a slip of paper with Elizabeth Walker scrawled on it. It probably wasn't even her name.

She looked up to see Darcy eyeing her with what she took to be pity. She hated that. He probably knew all about her of course, Caroline had after all vetted all the guest at Charlie's first party and they had probably gone deeper when it was clear they would be spending more time together. That was fine, an invasion of privacy sure, but she understood for people in their position it would have been a necessary precaution. Still, she didn't like it one bit.

"The chicken is delicious, Lady Catherine." Charlotte attempted to save her. Luckily it worked, and Catherine turned her attentions to boasting about the five starness of her hotel, leaving Lizzy mercifully alone for a while, feeling Darcy's eyes on her the whole time.

* * *

When dinner finally concluded, Lizzy was hoping that they could make a great escape as quickly as possible. Maybe they could go down and have a flutter on some of the tables, she was feeling the need to let off some steam. However, her hopes were dashed when it became apparent that they were expected to stay and provide more entertainment for her ladyship.

The evening was continuing on in the same boring vein. One thing of note though, when Lizzy went to the bathroom earlier, she had caught Darcy and Anne just outside having a whispered conversation. It all seemed very intense for the few seconds her presence wasn't noticed, she couldn't work anything of what they were saying out, but it seemed important. Darcy noticed her first and shut down, giving her a nod and going back into the main room, Anne trailing behind him. Probably discussing their nuptials, or how to get out of it, Lizzy snorted. It had become clear at dinner that Catherine was fully expecting a union between the two very soon. From what Lizzy had observed, it was unlikely. They were friendly enough and Anne certainly seemed to be fonder of Darcy than anyone else, but it clearly wasn't romantic. Mind you, what did she know?

She managed to isolate herself slightly when she went back, after a brief conversation with Anne. She seemed like a nice enough girl, a little wet, but hardly surprising. In a development Lizzy hadn't seen coming, it turned out Anne was a lawyer behind the scenes at Rosings. Would not have guessed it. Once Anne had been called back to her mothers side, Lizzy amused herself with a pack of cards she had in her bag, bought from the casino shop when she had first arrived. Span them round her fingers lazily, cutting the pack and reassembling it in different ways. It was relaxing and she enjoyed getting lost in the languid movements. Her peace could not last long.

"Elizabeth," Lady Catherine called her, beckoning her over to her throne where she was being attended to by Darcy and Anne. "You do any card tricks? I've grown quite bored of all the magicians in Vegas, same old thing every time."

Lizzy suppressed a roll of the eyes.

"I know a few, but I am sure they are nowhere near the quality level you are used to." she attempted to wriggle out.

"Oh nonsense," Catherine dismissed. "Come, child, entertain me."

Lizzy groaned silently and began her admittedly very limited range of tricks. Guess the card, disappear it into your shoe, that kind of shit. She'd never liked card tricks anyway, found it to be mostly a waste of time and effort, but over the years she had picked up a few. Catherine watched on with a stony face as Lizzy reverted to the Three Card Monte, the old classic that every grifter learnt off the bat.

"Ok, so you just have to find the lady." Lizzy explained, laying three cards face up on the table in a line. Two jacks and a queen. Flipped them over so they were face down and began to lift them up two at a time, shuffling them across the line. It was a simple trick, relied wholly on sleight of hand and misdirection The mark, in this case Catherine, thought they could follow the movements easily, but the key was to pick two cards up at a time in one hand, jack and queen. The mark thought that you were tossing the bottom card of the two, but in reality you could toss either, causing the mark to then follow the wrong card. Catherine was vaguely amused by it, and indeed won a couple of times.

"You need to practice more, Miss Bennet." she smirked.

Luckily, Catherine soon tired and began ignoring Lizzy's efforts, calling Collins over instead. Lizzy quietly slipped away, back to her corner of the sofa, still practising the Monte.

She felt Darcy's presence lingering, and grew bored when he didn't say anything.

"Do you mean to throw me off my game, Darcy?" she looked up at him, eyes not on the cards but still doing the trick perfectly. "By now you must know that it will really just encourage me."

"Yes, I am aware." Darcy replied.

"You want to see if you can beat me?" she asked, unsure why she was continuing a conversation with a man she really didn't like. "Tell you what, I'll even turn the corner of the queen up for you like this. You can't lose."

Darcy merely smiled.

"Miss Bennet, I grew up in a casino. I grew up with grifters. Do you really think that I do not know that the Monte is impossible to win? Unless of course, the grifter lets the mark win, like you just did with my Aunt…"

"Reckon she noticed?"

"Course not," he scoffed. "It is unthinkable to Catherine that she is not the smartest person in the room."

"What you're saying is I'm smarter than your Aunt then?" Lizzy grinned.

"At Monte, yes," Darcy smiled, before his expression turned serious. "In other aspects, I will reserve judgement until I am in possession of the facts."

"Is that a dig, Darcy?" Lizzy clutched her heart in mock hurt.

"Should it be?" he countered. "If you think….."

"Piiiiiccccccccccaaaaaaasssssssssoooooooo!" Richard appeared from nowhere, shouting in his cousins ear before promptly howling with laughter. Catherine gave him a weary stare before turning back to Collins and Charlotte. By the glazed expression on Charlotte's face, Lizzy guessed they were talking about work.

"Was that really necessary, Richard?" Darcy sighed, rubbing his ear.

"Ah, lighten up, cousin!" Richard chuckled. "Just trying to get some fucking energy in the room! Jesus, I had more fun at Snake Eyes funeral."

"Yes, you certainly did," Darcy drawled. "I'm sure his bereaved family were delighted by your gift of five grams of speed…."

"It's what he would have wanted!" Richard laughed, Lizzy joining in. He was a character alright. Again, not in the same way as Charlie was, but still the complete opposite of Darcy. Fun, obviously wild, with a habit for recreational drug use and alcohol abuse? How were these two friends? And, God only knows what Caroline thought of him…..

"So, Lizzy, may I call you Lizzy?" Richard addressed her, not waiting for a response. "I must say, I was impressed with how you handled Lady C tonight. Even Darcy here is frightened of her."

"No, I'm not." Darcy replied churlishly.

"Yes you are. With good reason as well. She's fucking _feral,_ you know, in that way old English ladies often are."

Lizzy laughed at his description, agreeing whole heartedly.

"So, you met my cousin here in London?" Richard probed, half a smirk on his face. "Tell me, how bad was he? Don't worry, you can tell me."

The last part was said in a mock whisper, Richard obviously took great pleasure in teasing Darcy. And here Lizzy thought was a man who couldn't be teased…..

"It was quite dreadful, Richard," Lizzy whispered back. "You know, the first night I met him, he didn't talk to anyone at all outside of his friends, despite the fact that every was so keen to meet the great Picasso himself….."

Richard laughed loudly and Darcy frowned.

"I do not do well in social settings." Darcy attempted to defend himself.

"Makes me wonder just how good a grifter you can be then," Lizzy said lightly, Richard shaking with silent laughter. "I mean, isn't it pretty much the basic skill, to be able to recommend yourself to strangers?"

"That is different," Darcy said in a strained voice. "When I am playing a score, I am playing a character. Unfortunately, when I am being myself, I find it a lot harder."

"That's because you're a prick." Richard nodded, seriously.

"Yes, thank you, Richard." Darcy sighed.

"You should practice more, Darcy," Lizzy smirked at him. "You never know, one day we might find a personality in there somewhere…."

Richard howled with laughter again, slapping Darcy on the back.

"Oh, I can see why you like this one!" he choked, before Darcy shot him a quick glare. Richard just smirked. Lizzy was confused by the comment. Her and Darcy obviously shared a mutual dislike.

"Anyway, tell me more," Richard leant in to Lizzy, causing Darcy to frown. "Did you meet the Bouzid's as well?"

"You mean Charlie and Caroline?" Lizzy clarified.

"Yes, I suppose you know them as Bingley."

"I did. They were….. Nice?" she said it like the opinion offered was more a question.

"First time anyone's described Caro as nice," Richard smirked. "Tell you what though, I'm actually missing the stuck up bitch. Damn you, Darcy, do you have any idea how badly your retirement decision is affecting my social life? Not to mention my fucking bank balance…."

"Why weren't you in London with them then, Richard?" Lizzy asked. "Why weren't you part of Charlie's supposed new crew?"

"When I say I miss Caroline, it's in the sense that I miss her when she's not there. When I'm actually with her, I realise that I would rather be anywhere else in the world! They asked me to join up with them of course, but I fear that without Darcy here I would grow quite tired of the two of them. Don't get me wrong, I love them to death, but Charlie's relentless positivity and Caro's…. personality… would eventually wear me down to the bone." Richard explained with a chuckle.

"What happened with that anyway?" Lizzy began cautiously, wanting to finally find some answers. "You all disappeared very quickly, Darcy…."

"My work was done," he replied stiffly. "I needed to get back to Pemberley."

"And Charlie and Caroline? They have second thoughts about London?"

Lizzy was careful to notice the way Darcy reacted to her questions. He seemed the epitome of casual and indifference, but Lizzy thought it was all too considered, it was all a performance.

"I haven't spoken to them in a while," Darcy said slowly. "From what I gather, they were concerned about the police attention they were attracting and Charlie got offered a very lucrative opportunity somewhere else. It was all about timing."

"Selling the Sydney Opera House, isn't he?" Richard cut in. "He's trying to top you, Will!"

"You know, my sister, Jane, you remember her? She went up to see Caroline the other week…."

"I don't know anything about that." Darcy said quickly. Way too quickly. Lizzy noticed that Richard's smile had become forced and the two friends were purposefully avoiding each others eyes. Before she could follow up, however, Catherine's voice echoed over.

"William, Richard! Stop ignoring your Aunt!"

With a roll of Darcy's eyes and a snort from Richard, they were gone, leaving Lizzy pondering the conversation.

Something was off. Something wasn't right. The answers were close, shapes in the haze, not yet fully formed, but definitely there. Went back to the question from all those months ago, the question she had pretended to stop caring about but had now promptly proven she just couldn't.

Who the hell was Will Darcy?

And what the fuck was he up to?

* * *

 **Hello again, thanks for reading. I think this ones a bit too talky, I'm not very good with descriptions, not got the language skills! Hope you enjoyed it anyway**.


	14. Cheechako?

Lizzy had trouble sleeping that night. She tossed and turned well into the early hours, before giving up. Tried everything to distract her, take her mind off the circles it was running, but nothing seemed to work. Not television, not cards, not the internet, not the view of the city. She got so desperate, she even tried the pay per view porn. It amused Lizzy a bit to imagine Catherine's face when she saw Lizzy's room bill that she was basically paying for. But that was only a fleeting diversion. No, she was thinking about Richard Fitzwilliam, Charlie and Caroline Bingley, and most of all, Will fucking Darcy. Picasso, possibly the greatest living grifter, the man with a sister in prison, a trail of broken friendships, the man who was supposedly retired. She was replaying every horrible interaction with him, searching for anything she had missed. Because she knew something smelt bad, her senses were telling her that all was not as it seemed. It just didn't quite make sense. But fuck, she couldn't even begin to figure it out. Was she paranoid? Was she just so determined to distrust and dislike him that she was projecting something that wasn't there onto him? Trust your instincts, that's what grifters were always told when starting out, that was what Tommo and Jane had drilled into her. But her instincts had been wrong before, alarmingly frequently of late. So, was she wrong about this as well?

Finally managed to doze off about four am, but the sleep was still fitful, never getting passed the first faze. Her dreams were strange and vivid, waking her up in fits and starts, but not allowing to be remembered. All that was left was a trail of gas and heightened emotions. This wasn't healthy, it wasn't good. This was supposed to be a holiday.

She woke up properly at around 8 am to the sound of crashing and the smell of fried food. Stumbled out of her room to find Charlotte, dressed in her business suit, humming some bland pop song that she would be mortified to know, cooking up some eggs.

"Morning, Lizzy," she said brightly, as Lizzy collapsed onto a chair at the breakfast bar. "You want some eggs?"

"Please." Lizzy confirmed shortly, resting her head on the tabletop.

"Still not a morning person?" Charlotte chuckled.

"Couldn't sleep is all." Lizzy replied.

"Having nightmares about Lady Catherine?" Charlotte laughed. "Me too. She's a fucking bitch isn't she? You see now why I couldn't explain her to you, it would never have done her justice!"

"I don't know if she's either really fucking horrible or just really fucking bored," Lizzy said. "It was like we were all there just to amuse her briefly…."

"And I can't believe she made me go back to work!" Charlotte moaned. "It's not like I do anything all day anyway. I'm so sorry that I have to leave you on your own, Lizzy."

"No worries," Lizzy waved her off. "Sure I can find something to do…"

"You could give Darcy a call…" Charlotte smirked at her.

"Why the fuck would I do that?" Lizzy snapped her head up.

"Dunno, just a suggestion."

"Well, a pretty shit one. Think I'll just go back to bed for the rest of the morning, then have a wander around, hit the tables for a bit in the afternoon."

"Sounds good," Charlotte plated her up some eggs on toast. "I'll be done by about 5 probably, maybe 6. We'll go out for dinner, maybe go see a show. Not one of the Strip ones, they cost a fortune, but there's this really cool club I know a bit out of town. Should be a band on."

"Sounds good." Lizzy nodded, distractedly.

"Ok, well I've got to go. Don't be too lonely!"

Charlotte gave her a wave and walked out of the suite, leaving Lizzy alone with her eggs. She ate slowly, desperately trying to keep her mind of Darcy and Richard. It didn't matter, she kept telling herself, she was here to have fun, she was being stupid. Finished her food and trudged back to bed, not planning on getting up anytime soon.

* * *

 _Knock, knock, knock._

She sat up with a start, the television illuminating the dark room with flickering light.

 _Knock, knock, knock._

Checked the time, almost 1pm, she had slept longer than she had wanted to. The banging on the door continued relentlessly. She dressed quickly and rushed to answer it. God, she hoped it wasn't Catherine. Reached the door and opened it.

"Lizzy!" Richard Fitzwilliam greeted enthusiastically. "May I come in?"

He pushed past her without waiting for an answer, striding towards the kitchen area as if he owned the place.

"You got any coffee in here? Had a few too many whiskeys last night and I need a caffeine boost. Mind you, I don't regret it. When in the company of Lady C, one must make sure one is well lubricated!"

He put the coffee pot on, whistling away, seemingly oblivious to the fact that Lizzy had yet to say a word to him. She studied him carefully as he went about his business, but found nothing more to comment on. He turned to her with enquiring eyes after a while, and she quickly put her mask on.

"So," Richard clapped his hands together. "What are we doing today then?"

"We?"

"Well, yes!" Richard smiled at her. "I've grown quite bored of everyone here and it's not like Darcy is much fun. So here we are, two people at a loose end with the whole of Vegas on our doorstep!"

"I'm not going to sleep with you." Lizzy stated with narrowed eyes, Catherine's words about him and women coming back to her from the previous evening.

Richard laughed loudly, pouring himself a cup of coffee.

"You wound me, Lizzy," he said, still chuckling. "Believe it or not, it is not my sole aim to attempt to seduce every woman I come into contact with. Alright, so maybe it is, but your insistence is noted and accepted. A shame though….."

Lizzy looked at him.

"Jesus, just kidding, mate," he held his hands up. "Look, way I see it, you seem like a cool girl and I'm bored and lacking in interesting company. As are you by the looks of it. So come on, what's the harm in having a bit of fun?"

Again, Lizzy just looked at him.

"I mean the entirely innocent connotation of fun obviously. You have a dirty mind, Bennet."

"Fine," Lizzy sighed. "Pour me some of that coffee will you, least you can do seeing as you barged in here uninvited."

"That's the spirit," Richard set about the coffee. "A little bit lacking in enthusiasm, but we'll get there."

"Sorry, I didn't sleep well last night." she muttered.

"Anything troubling you?" Richard asked, lightly.

It was probably just a friendly question, a concerned enquiry. But the way Lizzy's mind was working recently, she couldn't help but see it as fishing. Did he know that she was suspicious of him? Did he come here not to make a new friend as he was insisting, but in fact to check up on her, check how much she might have guessed? If he was, he was wasting his time. She knew fuck all and it was killing her. She decided to play along with him for now, maybe even have a good time in the process. Remember, this is a holiday, she kept telling herself….

"No, nothing really." Lizzy dismissed, sipping on her steaming coffee, feeling the elixir flow through her. God, she needed that.

"I never sleep well in hotels," Richard admitted happily. "I'm always just a bit on edge for some reason. Didn't get a wink of sleep last time I came here. I think I was worried that Lady C was going to come in my room and start shouting at me about something or other!"

"You're staying here as well?"

"Oh, no, decided not to this time, much to C's annoyance. Me and Darcy are at the Bellagio. Needed to have a place where we can get away from her. Whenever we've stayed in Rosings before, she was always letting herself into our rooms every five minutes with some bullshit or another."

"She seems very fond of you." Lizzy said, diplomatically.

"She's fond of Darcy," Richard corrected. "And she tolerates me."

"I get the impression that you don't exactly try hard to rectify that." Lizzy smirked.

"Oh, nowadays I just play up to it," Richard smirked back. "That way, she mostly leaves me alone. It does mean throwing poor Darcy under the bus somewhat, but hey, mans gotta do what a mans gotta do."

"I'm sure he can handle it." Lizzy muttered, causing Richard to look at her with an expression she couldn't read.

"I'm sure he can," he said after a while, his smile returning. "You wanna get some lunch?"

* * *

They strolled down the strip for a while, Lizzy loosening up as they went along. He really was good company. He was relaxed, funny, an expert at putting people at ease. She supposed he had to be, he was a grifter in one of the most legendary crews of the modern day. Found herself letting her guard down around him, a part of her knew that this may well be exactly what he wanted her to do, but she pushed it away. He seemed genuine enough and she was tired of over thinking. Had spent all last night doing so and it had got her nowhere.

Richard had told her about himself as they made their way towards a diner he knew of. Turned out he was from Glasgow, Scotland. Him and Darcy were cousins by some slightly confusing family relations and had been close since they were little, despite the fact Darcy had mostly grown up in England at numerous boarding schools and Richard had stayed home. That explained Darcy's lack of accent then. Richard was now based in Edinburgh, but had been working with Darcy as his fixer for six years now. The two of them were going out together, Richard said he was ready to move away from grifting. She in turn, told him all about her family, what they did, her hopes for the future. When she told him she wanted to play the long con eventually, he smiled widely at her.

"An honourable profession!" he joked as they entered the diner. It smelled of grease and the waitresses looked as fake as they come.

"You want to play the long con then," Richard mused as they sat down. "You think you can do it?"

"I think I could," Lizzy said slowly. "I mean, I know I'm not quite ready yet, and no way can I do it on my own. The problem is, I just don't have the sort of friends who would be willing to try with me…"

"What you need is a teacher." Richard nodded.

"Well, I don't know about that…."

"It's a hard job, Lizzy," Richard warned her, the first time he had turned serious today. "And it's in no way as glamorous as some would make out. Like Caro for example."

"Caroline…" Lizzy snorted, dismissing the woman with her tone, causing Richard to laugh, yes, but also give her a slightly disapproving look.

"I know she can be hard work, but Caroline is one of the best grifters you will ever meet. Her record speaks for itself. And she did it herself."

"Certainly helped that she had 'Picasso' in her corner." Lizzy said, sarcastically.

"No doubt. But she didn't come to work with him by accident. Charlie and Caroline grew up with very little. They grafted their way up from nothing to what they are today through determination and an extraordinary amount of skill. I saw them first in Manchester, oh seven years ago now. They were pulling off this Gold Brick scam that was just _so_ ridiculous, it had no right to work whatsoever. I stumbled across it by accident, I was supposed to be doing some surveillance on the same mark for a different scam with a different crew, but I didn't think the bloke was a goer. He was too clued up, was unconnable. For some reason, I stayed one more day on him, and that's when the Bouzid's came in. They even had me fooled for a little while, I thought they were genuine, would never have guessed they were grifters. I kept the surveillance up for a while longer, thinking that perhaps this could be a way in. As I watched, I slowly realised that these two kids, because that's what they were, hell it's what I was too, were running a score. It was so perfect, so simple yet complex, one of the best scams I had ever seen worked. It was a privilege to witness. When it was over, and they'd taken him for twenty grand, I introduced myself. Darcy was looking to play the long con, he was much like you are, he didn't have the contacts. So I put them in touch and there we have it."

Lizzy flagged down one of the ridiculous waitress as she thought about Richard's revelations. She supposed she shouldn't have been surprised. Just because someone was a bitch, didn't mean they weren't good at there job. In fact, the two often came hand in hand.

"Oh, can you give us five minutes?" Richard smiled flirtatiously at the pretty waitress as she came over. "We're waiting for someone…."

"We are?" Lizzy asked, confused.

"You want to play the long con, right? As I said, you need a teacher," Richard smirked. "And by happy coincidence, it turns out that the greatest living con artist happens to be a mutual acquaintance of ours and only about five minutes away…"

For fuck sake.

* * *

Darcy walked in ten minutes later, looking as immaculate as ever. Even though he was dressed down by his standards, his shirt sleeves rolled up and a couple of buttons undone, he still looked every bit the Armani model. She saw him smile at the waitress as she greeted him by the door, disconcerting her a little. She had seen him smile more in two days here than he had done in the whole time they'd been together in London. He spotted them and quickly walked over, settling himself down next to Richard with a nod to both of them.

"Darcy!" Richard greeted. "How are you today?"

"I saw you two hours ago, Richard."

"A lot can change in two hours," Richard shot back. "Especially with you. I'm sure you've found something minor that has got on your nerves and put you in an even worse mood than normal."

"In fact, I had been thoroughly enjoying my day until you called. You are that minor annoyance, Richard."

"Glad to be of service," Richard bowed. "God, I'm bloody starving, where's that waitress gone?"

He stood up to chase her down, leaving Lizzy alone with Darcy.

"Miss Bennet, how are you?" Darcy asked, stiffly.

"Fine, thank you." she replied shortly.

God this was fucking awkward. They just sort of sat in silence, Darcy pretending to read the menu, and Lizzy pretending to stare out of the window.

"I … um… trust your family is well?" he eventually broke the silence.

"Yes, all fine."

"Good."

"Good."

They were saved by Richard coming back.

"Don't bother with that menu, Will," he sat down. "I've ordered for us. The biggest, best and greasiest burgers in town!"

"Sounds delightful," Darcy said, sarcastically. "So, why did you drag me here, Rich?"

"Because you need to get out more," Richard joked. "No, truth is, I was having a good time with Lizzy here and she mentioned to me that she had ambitions to play the long con in the future. So, I thought you could maybe give her a few tips over lunch, whilst also attempting to socialise like a normal human being…"

Lizzy looked down in embarrassment at Richards words. Darcy would probably just laugh at her, after all, she was just a 'small time chancer', direct quote. She could feel his eyes burning into her.

"It wasn't my idea." Lizzy mumbled, feeling the need to say something.

"I'm not sure if Miss Bennet is interested in what I have to say." Darcy said, she could hear the frown in his voice, but she still couldn't bring herself to look at him.

"Nonsense, course she is," Richard enthused. "Aren't you, Lizzy?"

"I suppose it couldn't hurt." she sighed, finally bringing up her gaze to Darcy. He was looking at her not with the mockery or raised eyebrow she was expecting, but instead his eyes held a hint of surprise and curiosity.

"Ok then," Darcy nodded slowly. "Where do you want to start?"

"At the beginning, obviously." Lizzy said, easing the tension as both men laughed slightly.

So, Darcy began.

* * *

"Firstly, you need to decide what kind of grifter you want to be. It is an art form, and like every art form, there are many different faucets. Ask yourself, what are you in this for? If your answer is purely money, then I would advise caution. You can go down that road, the purely efficient style of grifting, tectonic, the German way if you will. Pick marks because you know they are as close to a sure thing as possible, leave no room for manoeuvre and no room for mistakes. Many have had great success doing this. However, it has its drawbacks. It can lead to complacency, a loss of morals, and simply put, it's not as satisfying.

Or, you could go the complete opposite. The Dogma approach. You trust your instincts, make it up as you go along, get a bigger rush than you could ever hope to. Flying by the seat of your pants, it is truly living. Flexible and confident, ready to change up at a moments notice, rely on grift sense. The purest form of the game, what it is all about for some. Your friend George Wickham chooses this way. But, it takes an extraordinary amount of skill, of willpower, of sheer arrogance. Everything can go wrong in an instant and you can end up in prison, or worse, at the drop of a hat."

"So, where do you fit in?" Lizzy asked,

"I try to find a middle ground. When I was younger, I leant more towards the second approach, and I look back at those days with both pride and horror. The risks I took, the danger I put myself in and, more importantly, the danger I put others around me in, were just plain stupid. But, God, it's a rush, you know? And I don't regret it because it taught me to compromise. In our heyday, my crew attempted to blend both styles and we had extraordinary success in doing so."

The bragging aside, Lizzy was fascinated by his words. Because whatever she thought of him, whatever her suspicions of him, Will Darcy was widely recognized as one of the greatest grifters to have played the game. And when he talked about it, he came alive, a whole different side of him came on display. He was passionate, knowledgeable, interesting, qualities Lizzy had only ever glimpsed when he was talking about his profession. It was a welcome change and it suited him.

"How do you start then?" Lizzy asked, leaning closer to him across the table. "What do you need to do?"

"You need to get your mind right," Darcy shrugged. "Because if you want to be a real grifter, you have to be devoted to it. It's a lonely existence, no doubt about it. You sacrifice your life for it. And you have to get used to being on constant alert. For example, both me and Richard could tell you that the man behind us on the second table on the right is carrying a handgun in his inside jacket pocket, that the girl four tables across is an underage prostitute waiting for her next client, that all three CCTV cameras in here are just for show. We could tell you that there are four possible escape routes if we need it. That's how we now see a room, how we now see people. And to be the best grifter you can be? Friends, lovers, fuck even your own family, come second to it in the end, whatever your intentions."

"But you have family," Lizzy narrowed her eyes. "You have friends, Charlie, Caroline and Richard. Are you telling me they come second to you?"

Darcy was silent for a while, weighing up the question and the ramifications of his answer. Richard looked across at him uneasily. She'd pretty much forgotten he was there, and considering his personality, that was a hard thing to do, so enraptured was she with Darcy's words.

"Whether I have intended it or not," Darcy said, slowly and with regret. "They have all come second to my pursuit of the long con. Richard will tell you the same thing. It's just how it is, how a grifter is wired. Grifters are all sociopaths, there is something in us that is not present in other people, some deficiency maybe, I don't know…."

"Jesus, you're a real hoot, Darcy…" Lizzy chuckled, causing Darcy to direct one of those rare smiles her way. She felt something warm stir in her.

"I know, I know," he laughed. "As my cousin has undoubtedly told you, I am quite the bore."

"Not at all." Lizzy shook her head, and she meant it too.

"You see, Richard?" Darcy looked slyly across at his cousin. "Some people find my conversation interesting."

"She's just being polite, Darcy," Richard laughed as their food was brought to the table. It looked good in the way that bad food always does. "Don't go getting any ideas…."

"I'll bear that in mind," Darcy said through slightly gritted teeth. "So, anyway, yes, first off you get your mind right. You work out whether you can really do this, whether you really want it enough."

"I do." Lizzy said, looking him dead in the eye, trying to convey just how serious she was.

"Good, I think," Darcy nodded, taking a bite of his burger and looking suitably disgusted in the aftermath. "So, then you start with the con itself. The trap that most people fall into when coming from a short con background like yourself, no offence, is that they see the long con as an entirely different beast, they mythologize it too much, they over complicate it. But grifting is grifting. The stakes get higher as the money involved increases, the scams get wider and wider, but in the end they still work on the same principles as something as small as picking a pocket. It's all just misdirection. Misdirection, misdirection, misdirection. What it's all built on. Smoke and mirrors, distractions and disguise. Making people look at the big show, when the important stuff is happening behind them. That's all it is."

"You make it sound so simple." Lizzy sighed.

"In a way, it is that simple," Darcy frowned. "In other ways however, it is not. Perfection is required at every level, at every stage. This is where your crew comes in. I planned the scores, but I couldn't have done any of it without the people around me. They need to challenge you, excite you, understand you completely. The chemistry has to be potent, otherwise you may as well go home and be ordinary. Fuck knows, they're crying out for more robots out there. So, yeah, your crew has to be as perfect as you are. You need a roper, to reel the mark in, a fixer, to take care of the tech, a banker, to take care of the money, and then an inside man or woman, the one who is the face of the score. That is the minimum required. We were lucky in the fact that Richard, Charlie and Caro were all capable of working outside their remit, they could all work the inside if it was required."

"You give me too much credit, Will," Richard snorted. "I distinctly remember that time in Hong Kong when you commented that I was perhaps the worst inside man you had ever seen in action."

"Ok, Charlie and Caro could work the inside." Darcy smirked, nodding.

"But none of you could ever be bothered to learn any of the tech." Richard argued.

"Richard, you were an invaluable asset."

"Thank you." Richard nodded in a superior tone.

"So, choose what type of grifter you want to be, keep it simple and find the best crew you can. Anything else?" Lizzy asked, dipping a fry in a salt and pepper dip.

"Abide by the rules, but I'm sure you already know them. You can't cheat an honest man etc etc. Oh, and the most important thing of all, the thing that will set you apart from most of the field. By no means gospel, but it is the one unique piece of advice I can offer you."

"What's that?" Lizzy said, intrigued.

"It's not about the money," he said simply, leaning back and pushing his half finished plate away from him. "Once you get that, then you're halfway there."

"It's not about the money." Lizzy nodded, to herself more than anything. It was a sentiment she had heard him express before, all those months ago in Bingley's hotel, but now it hit home more than ever. After her struggles the last few months, her feelings of boredom and standing still, she now thought she understood the words better. Because it wasn't about the money, it was about the game, always had been. They did this because they weren't ordinary people, they choose to take control of their lives, not be presided over by law, government, banks and newspapers. Was it as Darcy had said, some form of deficiency in their souls? Or was it something altogether more simple, more enlightened? Lizzy couldn't answer that, maybe she never could, but she knew she wanted to do this. She wanted to take his words and fucking _soar_ with them.

She looked across at Darcy, to find him looking straight back at her. His eyes were as intense as ever, but Lizzy finally detected a hint of warmth. And she was ashamed to say that she liked it. Because with this conversation, Will Darcy had finally come alive, at least to her. It was beginning to make sense, the reverence he was treated with by his friends, the reputation he had carved for himself. When he talked about grifting, he was a different person, a better person, someone who she could actually stand to be around. The realisation worried her a little.

But still, the doubts were there, and at one point she had detected a slip. 'I try to find the middle ground', he had said. _Try_. Present tense. Not tried. Try. It wasn't in the past for him, he was still active, still grifting, still playing the game. His claims of retirement rang false. The fog was lifting slightly again, the shapes coming to foreground, still obscured, still nothing more than wisps on the wind, but slowly becoming something resembling a clear landscape. She didn't know, couldn't begin to work it out, but she knew it was there. And she also had the feeling that the endgame was nigh, that she would find out sooner rather than later.

"Lizzy… Lizzy!" Richard brought her out of her suspicions.

"Yes, sorry." she said quickly, pulling herself together.

"You want a coffee?"

"No, no, you guys go ahead. I'm going to go back to Rosings and try to get my head down again. Charlotte wants to go to this club tonight, so I want to be at least passably awake."

"I can give you a little pick me up if you want?" Richard suggested with a smirk.

"No," Lizzy laughed. "Not necessary. Just need a few hours shut eye. Thanks for lunch and for your advice, Will, it was appreciated and enlightening."

"I hope I didn't totally bore you." Darcy half smiled.

"You didn't at all. Seriously, thank you. I'm sure I'll see you soon."

Lizzy got up and nodded at them, exiting the diner and beginning to walk down the strip back to the hotel, her mind racing with uncertainties.

* * *

Will Darcy sat back as Richard moved across to sit opposite him. He watched through the glass as Lizzy Bennet walked quickly away, soon disappearing in the throng of tourists and chancers.

"What do you think?" Richard asked him softly, a frown etched across his brow.

"I'm not sure." Darcy sighed.

"Best guess?"

Darcy looked at his cousin.

"She knows something."

"Shit." Richard breathed out.

"Shit indeed." Darcy nodded, wondering whether everything was going to crumble around him because of a short con player from North London.

"I need a cigarette."

* * *

 **AN - Hey, thanks for reading. Hope you enjoyed yet more endless conversations haha. Oh, and the chapter title, Cheechako, is a term from the Alaskan Gold Rush of the 1890s, that is grifter slang for someone who is completely new to the territory. An obvious metaphor dressed up to make myself sound cleverer than I am.  
**


	15. Alibi Store

Her holiday was coming to an end, and truth be told she was looking forward to going home. She missed Jane, missed Lydia, missed London itself. Vegas was a fun novelty, but she had come to the realisation that she could never live here permanently. Charlotte had taken to it like a duck to water, she had great new friends, a great house, a great job, and she loved the city in all its contradictions. But Lizzy needed something more real. And London was always the place for her, always would be. The dirt, the filth, the grime, the unexpected beauty, the fact that anyone and everyone was there if you looked hard enough. The corners that no-one went to, the parks and the lakes that were hidden, the housing estates and the kebab shops, the dealers and the bankers.

Also, her brain was hurting. She had tried to push her doubts to the back of her mind, but they niggled away. She knew Darcy was up to something, she just knew it. And every day when her mind was wandering she went back to him and all the interactions she had ever had with the man, trying to spot something, some clue that had remained buried in the reaches of her mind.

" _The true con artist has to be the smartest person in the room at all times_ _…_ _.. We are conductors in our own orchestra, everyone around us is the instruments._ _"_

It didn't help that he seemed to be around her an awful lot. Her and Richard had struck up a fast friendship, she found him hilarious and ridiculous in equal measure, and he thoroughly enjoyed her teasing and sarcastic nature. And where Richard was, Darcy normally followed. To be honest, she was warming to him a little. Had picked his brains about grifting on numerous occasions since their lunch and he had been generous in his responses, always taking her seriously, happy for her to challenge his viewpoint, even though he normally brought her round to his point of view without her even realising she was now agreeing with him. He'd always do this half smirk thing that really got on her tits when this happened. Didn't help that it made him look even more ridiculously attractive than he already was.

But still, he was difficult to be around for the most part. Still uptight and distant, as if he was always holding himself back. She marvelled at his and Richard's friendship, at how two people so different could share such an intimacy. It was clear that Richard, more than Charlie and Caroline, was the one who really knew his cousin, the one who was perhaps the only one who understood him.

" _Whether I have intended it or not, they have all come second to my pursuit of the long con. Richard will tell you the same thing. It_ _'_ _s just how it is, how a grifter is wired. Grifters are all sociopaths, there is something in us that is not present in other people, some deficiency maybe, I don_ _'_ _t know_ _…_ _._ _"_

Yeah, despite the slight softening in relations between her and Darcy, she was looking forward to leaving the man behind. Let him get on with his shit and stop fucking worrying about it. He had given her some good advice, and Richard had even offered to put her in touch with some of his contacts in England, people who may well be of the same persuasion as she was, may be ready to step up their game and play the long con.

She was looking forward to going home.

She was sat at the kitchen table with Charlotte and some half finished take out boxes, absentmindedly playing with her already battered deck of cards.

 _Billy went all in, and then something strange happened. It was so obvious that Collins was bluffing, everybody around the table knew it. Even if he got lucky on the river and somehow won, it would do little harm to Darcy_ _'_ _s chip pile. Surely he was going to take him out._

 _But then, after a moment of deliberation, Darcy threw down his cards and folded._

"Lizzy…. Lizzy!" Charlotte was calling her.

"Shit, sorry, what were you saying?"

Again, she was thinking about him. Again she was fucking doing it. This was her second last night, she should have been cherishing every moment with her friend, but no, she was thinking of William fucking Darcy.

"I was saying that Richard wants us to go out tonight to say goodbye to you."

"I thought we were doing something tomorrow?" Lizzy asked, confused.

"Apparently, him and Darcy have some business tomorrow night that means they won't be joining us. So that means it'll be you, me Catherine, Billy and Anne. Joy, fucking joy."

"Indeed," Lizzy sighed. "So, where we going?"

"No idea," Charlotte said, lightly. "Richard says it's a surprise."

"Probably be a bunch of hookers and pills then."

"Not with Darcy there. The fun sponge himself." Charlotte laughed.

"Oh, God, is he coming as well?" Lizzy groaned. She didn't want to see him, not tonight.

"Course he is. Your going." Charlotte smirked.

"And what's that supposed to mean?"

"That he, like, obviously fancies you."

"Are we suddenly six years old again? Who the fuck says _fancy_ anymore?"

"Alright, he wants to fuck you then."

"Charlotte!" Lizzy put her head in her hands.

Ever since the night Darcy had shown up, Charlotte had gotten this ridiculous idea in her head that Darcy had 'feelings' for her. It was ridiculous. The man was a fucking robot, pretty much incapable of that kind of thing she'd wager. Admittedly, she did catch him staring at her a fair bit, but it was always with this frown on his face, like he was judging her for something. And, yes, they had got on better over the last week, but they had been talking about work, nothing else, nothing personal, nothing that normal people would do.

" _Look, fine, if you want to spend your time with some bottom of the rung weirdo family then by all means go ahead._ _"_

She was still that to him. Sure, he talked with her about her ambitions, gave her advice, but he still did it with a superior tone and that half smirk. He still didn't think she had it in her. That was fine. She was going to prove them all wrong in the end. She was going to have the world.

"Just saying." Charlotte held her hands up.

"Will Darcy does not want to fuck me," Lizzy said with a hardened tone. "He doesn't like me, he never has, I'm too far 'beneath' him. So please, just drop it!"

"You telling me you've never thought about it, Lizzy?" Charlotte said with an evil smile. "I know you think he's attractive…"

"Everybody with eyes knows he's attractive Charlotte," Lizzy conceded. "But that doesn't make up for his awful personality. So no, I have never imagined it."

Ok, that was a small lie. She was a female who could appreciate a good looking bloke and it had been a while, alright? She was only fucking human after all.

"Liar."

"Just shut the fuck up, alright?" Lizzy groaned.

"Fine, fine. You need to loosen up a bit though, Lizzy, have some fun, if you know what I mean…."

"CHARLOTTE!"

* * *

Billy Collins met them in a bar just off the strip. Apparently Richard had invited him. The Colonel found Billy hilarious, was constantly laughing at him. Not in a nasty way really, even if it was, Billy was too dense to realise anyway, just in a friendly mocking sort of way. Billy often had him in stitches without understanding why. Richard was just like that, he saw the funny side of everything, saw the funny side in people and gently mocked it.

" _Oh, Mr Bingley, thank you so much for the invitation! You must all come to dinner tonight as a thank you. You can meet Mr Collins himself!_

 _Again, it might have been her imagination, but she swore she saw Charlie take a quick glance at Darcy who gave him the barest shake of the head. Maybe she was being paranoid, but something seemed a little of with it. The three of them, Charlie, Caroline and Darcy seemed to have their own language of the body that they communicated in._

Stop it, Lizzy. Stop it.

Darcy and Richard walked in around half an hour later, Richard spotting them first, leaning into Darcy to say something, causing Darcy to give him one of his withering stares. Looked like he'd brought the fun with him tonight then, Lizzy thought sarcastically.

"Ladies!" Richard clapped enthusiastically as they approached. "Where's Billy gone? Ah, here he is, my man! A good night would not be complete without you, my friend!"

Billy did his ridiculous half bow thing as he came back over with drinks for her and Charlotte, causing Richard to collapse in laughter.

"Classic, just classic!" he managed to choke out, collapsing onto the seat next to Lizzy.

" _You know what a big deal that guy is right? Rosings is like one of the top Casinos in Vegas!_ _"_

"I'll get the drinks in then shall I?" Darcy muttered, walking away towards the bar.

"Bottle of champagne, Darcy!" Richard howled. "And get a couple of tequilas in while you're there!"

Lizzy laughed at him, determined to thoroughly enjoy this last night. Her actual last night was being hijacked by Lady Catherine who insisted they thank her personally for her hospitality, so tonight was basically her goodbye to Vegas. She was glad Richard was here, hell, even glad Billy was here. They chatted aimlessly for a while, before Darcy came back with what was decidedly not a bottle of champagne and no tequila in sight.

"What the fuck man?" Richard looked at the offered beer disdainfully. "You too tight to shell out for Lizzy's goodbye shindig, you bastard?"

"It's not about the money," Darcy frowned. "Remember we have a lot to do tomorrow, and I would prefer it if you were at least slightly coherent."

" _It_ _'_ _s not about the money._ _"_

"Spoilsport," Richard sulked, before catching Darcy's expression. "Ok, ok, you're right. Sorry, Lizzy, looks like I brought the fun police with me tonight."

Lizzy laughed.

"Come on, Darcy, loosen up will you?" she looked at him. "Be happy, this may well be the last time you are forced to be in my presence, so suck it up and get through it!"

"I assure you, that brings me no happiness whatsoever." Darcy said, seriously. He was looking at her intensely again, and for a moment Lizzy forget they had company as she held his gaze. Laughed quickly to disguise it, seeing Charlotte smirking out the corner of her eye. Bitch.

"Whatever you say, Darcy," she said, taking a sip of her beer. "So what is it that is so important for you two tomorrow that you are leaving me in the lions den all alone then?"

"Lizzy!" Billy admonished, he actually looked personally hurt by an insult thrown towards Catherine.

"Sorry, Billy." she smirked.

"Important business, I'm afraid," Richard said, dismissing it with a wave of his hand. "No more work talk, tonight, we get fucked up!"

"Richard…" Darcy warned.

"Alright, tonight, Lizzy slips me drinks while Darcy isn't watching!" he raised his glass with a laugh.

"For fuck sake…" Darcy sighed, and Lizzy laughed at him again.

* * *

As the evening progressed, they got a little more rowdy. Even Billy was cutting loose a bit and was pretty rosy in the cheeks. Much to Darcy's horror, they had decided to go on to some club that Richard had heard about. She realised why he had recommended it when she saw the half naked women dancing in cages…

"Fucking hell, Richard!" she shouted in his ear over the pumping bass. "You've not brought us to one of your weird fetish clubs have you?"

Richard howled in laughter, not responding, just wrapping an arm around her and steering her towards a cornered off section of the club. Lizzy noticed Darcy trailing behind them as she looked around the club, his eyes fixed on Richards arm around her waist with a frown on his face. Miserable fucker.

" _When I am playing a score, I am playing a character._ _Unfortunately, when I am being myself, I find it a lot harder."_

More drinks were waiting for them as they sat down, and they began to flow freely. Darcy had pretty much given up on trying to control Richard, and was just sat sulking in a corner. Billy was turning out to be a hilarious drunk and was pulling some of the worst dance moves she had ever seen. Although, maybe they were the best for sheer entertainment value. She felt her inhibitions loosen as the alcohol took hold, and her and Charlotte danced for a while, Richard joining in. Darcy just watched. She saw him get up out the corner of her eye and disappear off somewhere. He was gone for a while, before Lizzy realised he hadn't come back. She stood up on one of the VIP sofas and looked out over the crowd, not entirely sure why she was bothering. Wasn't like he was much fun. Eventually she spied him by the bar, looking out of place in his formal suit. He appeared to be being chatted up by a stunning blonde woman, all high heels and sleek hair, and she watched as her hands began stroking his arm. Felt a flash of something that could have been anger. Before she could process it, Richard was dragging her down, pouring her another drink, which she downed in one.

"That's the fucking spirit!" Richard cheered. "I told you didn't I, Lizzy? When I barged into your hotel room! Told you that we'd get there!"

"You did, Richard," Lizzy raised her glass, ready for it to be filled. "You did indeed."

"LIZZY! LIZZY!" Charlotte was yelling at her from only about three feet away. She was obviously already battered. "I'm gonna go and wing woman Billy!"

She preceded to do this ridiculous bird impression as she followed Billy out into the throng of people, flapping her arms around a yelling "KACOW!". Lizzy collapsed in laughter at the sight and allowed Richard to fill her glass up again…

* * *

She was monumentally drunk. Epically drunk. Drunker than she had been in a long time. Darcy had finally returned, and she had frowned at the napkin sticking out his top pocket that obviously had a lipstick scrawled number on it. For some reason, it pleased her when he'd took it out and thrown it over the sofa behind him.

" _Darcy is something of a legend amongst our peers you know. Picasso himself. They say he can_ _'_ _t be caught, say he_ _'_ _s too good, always three steps ahead of anyone who comes within a mile of him. You think you_ _'_ _ve got him, but in the end, you were looking in the wrong direction the whole time._ _"_

"Look, Lizzy…." Richard slurred to her. The club was about to close up, people were streaming to the doors. They, on the other hand, were still prolonging the evening. "I jusht wanna say, I'm sorry, you know?"

"Sorry for what?" Lizzy giggled for some reason.

"Oh, you know, all this!" he waved his arms around dramatically.

"What are you talking about?" Lizzy managed to reply, she couldn't even see straight at this point.

"That's enough, Richard," Darcy grabbed his cousins arm, hoisting him up. "Time to go."

"But Darcy….." Richard whined.

"Everybody's leaving. And you have spectacularly ignored my advice and gotten completely wasted again."

" _Richard Fitzwilliam. Long con artist, fixer, gambler, international lover and playboy, and finally, 2002 Edinburgh inter schools triple jump champion!_ _"_

"I'm fine," Richard stood up, swaying slightly, but managing to keep upright. The man could definitely handle a drink. He couldn't even talk properly, but even now he had full command of his movements. He began to walk out the club, waving behind him.

"I'll go hail a cab. You help Lizzy here."

"Come on." Darcy held his hand out to her.

"I don't need help." she said angrily, pushing his hand away and promptly toppling over. Darcy laughed slightly.

"Come on, Lizzy, stop being so fucking stubborn."

"Fine," she conceded with a huff. "But I'm accepting your help because I want to ok? Not because I need it."

"Of course." Darcy smirked.

They began to follow the crowd out the club, Darcy steering her through the masses. She clutched his arm like a life jacket, she knew she'd fall over and probably get trampled to death if she didn't. They finally exited into the warm night, Darcy looking around for Richard.

"Hey, Lizzy!" Charlotte called out, and they moved over to where Billy was leaning sloppily against a taxi.

"Come on, back to Rosings! Darcy, Richard's over there somewhere, said something about seeing a woman he liked the look of…"

"Oh, for fuck sake," Darcy sighed. "Ok, let's get you in here, Lizzy. Night, Charlotte, Billy."

Darcy opened the door for her, and bundled her gently into the backseat of the cab. Lizzy looked up at him for a moment, and saw the same sadness in his eyes that she had when he had seen George, or talked about his sister. She never did get to the bottom of that.

" _Georgiana Darcy_ _'_ _s in prison._ _"_

"What is it?" she asked, reaching up and touching his face.

"I'm sor….. Nothing," he pulled her hand gently away. "Goodnight Miss Bennet."

He moved away and shut the door. Lizzy looked back as the car pulled away, saw him look to the heavens before his face was briefly illuminated by that familiar speck of orange as he lit his cigarette. And then he was gone.

"… _perhaps you are just seeing what you expect to see in me._ _"_

Lizzy closed her eyes, leaning her forehead against the window, against the world as it rolled by, fully aware that she would remember very little of this tomorrow.

* * *

It was fucking _hell_. That's the only way she could describe it. The evening after found her dressed to the nines, wandering around Rosings Park casino floor with Lady Catherine, Anne, and a worse for wear Billy and Charlotte. She was so fucking hungover. Could barely remember anything of the night before, it was all mostly haze. She was getting through the evening on autopilot, she knew she wasn't fooling Catherine, she was undoubtedly too sharp for that, but it appeared that her Ladyships mind was on other things.

Lizzy sense something was wrong straight away, from the moment they met on the casino floor. Catherine was acting different to how she had before. She was restless, on edge, her eyes darting around regularly. Less composed, and her expression was harder than it had even been before. Whereas in every previous meeting she had been incessant with her questioning, unwilling to be left out of discussions, tonight she was the opposite. Billy had fussed around her asking if she was ill, but she had brushed him off with a biting putdown.

Lizzy had managed to escape to the Roulette table when Charlotte appeared next to her, finally having given Billy the slip.

"Jesus, Lizzy, this is fucking torture!"

"Tell me about it," Lizzy put a few chips on red 12. "This is like, top three hangovers."

"No doubt," Charlotte nodded. "Thank God Catherine's in just as bad a mood. I dunno why she doesn't just go back to her suite. It's obvious she doesn't want to be here."

Lizzy nodded, watching the wheel as it span. Had to look away, it was making her feel sick. Groaned as black 28 was called. One fucking slice away. Fucking mugs game.

"Bad luck, Miss Bennet," Catherine's voice appeared close to her ear, causing her to start slightly, something not missed. "Any reason you look so shaky tonight?"

The tone was one of suspicion that didn't sit right with Lizzy. She presumed she was just being admonished for her hung-over state, but there was a little to much bite for that to be justified. God, she couldn't wait to get home.

"I'm fine, Lady Catherine." Lizzy managed to reply, turning to look her dead in the eye. She was a challenge reflected back at her briefly, before the old woman's eyes flicked away from her, disgust replacing it. Charlotte scuttled away quickly.

"I ask you, why do people do such things to their bodies?" Catherine said out of nowhere, confusing Lizzy.

"Sorry?"

"A woman just walked past with this bloody monstrosity crawling all up her neck. I heard someone call it _art_ once you know. Bloody ridiculous. If my Anne ever came back home covered in tattoos, I would most likely disown her."

"Well, I don't think there's much danger of that." Lizzy snorted under her breath, but it was loud enough.

"You're right, I raised her better than that. If only I could have been there for all my family…"

There was a shout from across the room, one of surprise, of delight, of incredulity. Someone had obviously won big tonight.

"So it begins….." Lady Catherine sighed sadly.

Lizzy couldn't help but laugh. Here was one of the richest women in the world, annoyed that some poor bastard had actually won some money in her casino, a casino that would still turn a stupid profit tonight.

"Anyway, what was I saying?" Catherine was continuing. "Oh, yes, my family…"

"What about them?"

"His parents died very young, you see," Catherine spoke, almost like she was talking to herself, unaware of the company. "By societies rules he was a man, yes, but in reality, he was nothing more than a boy. I always said he'd been given too much freedom, but no-one listened to me. And then they were gone, just like that, and he was left alone. A sister to look after, a business to run. He wasn't ready for all that. I offered to take Georgiana of course, but he refused flat out. I offered them both a place here with me, but he resisted again. He was determined to be stubborn, determined to ignore reason. Then he started to break, pieces at a time, as it all crumbled. It was just too much for someone so young. It was the only thing I could do! I hoped one day he would understand it, even realise that it was the right thing for me to do. If he'd just stayed straight, if he'd just stepped back, he could have had it all. But no, he decided to become 'Picasso', and now here we are…."

"What are you talking about?" Lizzy asked, her heart beginning to pound, those elusive shapes suddenly coming into focus.

Another shout of triumph, this time from the roulette wheel next to them. Lizzy couldn't see the winner through the crowds that were gathering. It was clearly another big win. Funny, these things rarely came in twos in casinos…..

"I gave him the benefit of the doubt for all these years. He thinks I don't know, see, he thinks I can't see what he wants and what he's been doing to try to get it. Every time, I say to myself, he's young, he will come to his senses soon enough. But that day has never come, and now my patience is exhausted."

"Lady Catherine, what the hell is going on?"

Catherine looked at her with appraising eyes.

"I thought you were in on it, you know. Even up until this very moment, I thought you may well be part of all this. But now, I see you're not. You're too young, too stupid, too arrogant, too blind, too cocky. No, you're as ignorant as the rest I think."

A security guard tapped Catherine on the shoulder and whispered something in her ear.

Catherine's eyes shut tight in a grimace.

"What the fuck is happening?" Lizzy half screamed.

She was drowned out by another deafening cheer, this time from the blackjack table.

Then, Catherine turned to her. Gone was the nostalgic faraway look. Now it was just steel and a half smile.

"Well, Elizabeth Bennet, it would appear that William Darcy in in the midst of attempting to rob me."

" _Anyway, yeah, Catherine got Will to sign over the deed to the casino, Pemberley, just after his parents died_ _…_ _My guess is he_ _'_ _s still pretty bitter about it._ _"_

It crashed over her like a tidal wave. Fragments of conversations, of pointed looks, of overheard mutterings, all suddenly slotted into place. Turned to look at the room, eyes finding Billy straight away. Looked down at the glint of silver adorning his wrist. Of course.

" _You know what a big deal that guy is right? Rosings is like one of the top Casinos in Vegas!_ _"_

Of course.

"That motherfucker." Lizzy breathed out.

" _It's not about the money."_

Lizzy couldn't help it. She laughed out loud.

"Does it amuse you, Elizabeth?" Catherine asked her.

"I've been conned," Lizzy ignored her, still laughing in disbelief. "He fucking conned us. They conned all of us."

* * *

 **AN. Thanks for reading. Next couple of chapters will go back to the start, this time from Darcy's POV and it will all be explained.**


	16. The Long Con (Part One)

_Pemberley, Edinburgh, Scotland, One Year Ago…_

It was funny. Just as he was seriously pondering retirement, it came. The moment he'd been waiting nearly ten years for. The one window of opportunity he'd given up on ever getting. Him, Charlie, Caro and Richard had made enough money now to put it all behind them, and not one of them was over 30. He had no doubt that Charles and Caro would carry on, indeed Charlie was probably ready to take over his own crew, plan his own scores. Maybe Richard would go with him, but he doubted it. They would go back to Georgiana, right the wrongs they had inflicted on his poor sister, finally become a family if that was still possible. He would miss it desperately though. The cliché of one last score was rooted in such a deep lying truth. Grifter's were addicts, he knew that, recognised it in himself and all his friends. They were addicted to money, yes, but it was so much more than that. It was adrenaline, it was escapism, it was the sheer outrageousness of what they tried to get away with. He wasn't sure even now how he could walk away from that. He had never wanted to be ordinary, still didn't. What was the point? But he knew he had to be now, knew his luck was going to run out eventually. It does for us all. Nearly five years at the top of the pile, the top of his game. It couldn't be maintained. The police had already signalled their intentions with their treatment of his sister. That whole charade had never been about her, it had been about him. They had never been able to catch him, had never been able to get anything to stick, so they punished her for their failures. The guilt was enormous, a constant weight on his very being. It was time to change. For better or worse, it didn't matter. He had to change for her.

And then, Richard had blown everything up.

Breathless and sweating he burst into Darcy's Pemberley office, eyes alight and excited, every fibre on edge.

Darcy had looked up from his scotch and raised an eyebrow, waiting for his cousin to speak the one sentence that would change everything.

"I think I've found the way in."

And that was that.

* * *

 _Slough, England, Eleven Months Ago…_

He looked at his friends as they sat in anticipation, surrounded by the grey and dreary atmosphere of a conference room in Slough. It was the least obvious place for one of the most daring and risky scores of their careers to be planned. That's why it had been chosen. Caroline was clearly put out.

"You know I love you, Will, but why on earth did you drag me back from Monaco to sit in a dingy industrial estate in bloody Slough?"

He laughed slightly, disguising his unease with who his friend had become. She hadn't always been like this, hadn't always been such hard work. Money changes people, that was true enough, and it had changed Caroline immeasurably and in his opinion for the worse. He remembered her when they had first met, all flirtatious laughter and constant joy. She had been quick with a putdown, not afraid to laugh at herself, never exactly down to earth, but always self aware. He always went back to one of the first times they had met, possibly the first time he had ever been alone with her. They had been sat in the gardens of Pemberley, passing a champagne bottle between them, talking until the drink lay forgotten. They had discussed the future, where they wanted to go, who they wanted to be. One thing she said had stuck with him. 'I'm a black woman in a white mans game'. That desire to overcome the odds had been so appealing to him. But success had gone to her head and now she was different, haughty, even up herself. It was a far cry from the girl he'd danced with in Paris all those years ago, the flush of that first big score written all over them as they twirled and laughed together.

"You shouldn't even be in Monaco, Caro," Richard laughed openly at her, he had never had a problem doing so. "After the shit we pulled last year? Interpol were three minutes away from catching us red handed!"

He had always been jealous of his cousin. Richard was everything that a man should be he often thought, though he'd never admit it out loud. It wouldn't be worth the lifetime of mocking. Richard was funny, outgoing, had a lust for life that was rare, even wild, but he was always together, always in control of himself, always knew when to do the right thing. He had saved his life numerous times and without him, this crew would never have existed. Without him, Darcy knew he would probably be dead in a ditch next to George….

"I for one am excited!" Charlie piped up infectiously. "All this cloak and dagger has me on tenterhooks, Darcy."

Charles Bouzid, or Charlie Bingley as he was now known, was probably the second most naturally gifted grifter he'd ever met. He just had it. That grift sense that couldn't be taught, you either had it or you didn't. Truth be told he should have long outgrown their operation, but he was also prone to occasional lapses that him, Richard and even Caroline weren't. His propensity to have the occasional moral crisis or to fall in love with a mark were concerns that had mostly been ironed out, but still slightly lingered. He loved Charlie like a brother though and they had been through so much together since their first meeting in Manchester six years ago. Charlie and Caro had been short con players with ambition, had grafted their way up to being among the most respected names in the North West. It had been Richard who'd introduced them all, he'd seen them pull off what he described as "the most brazen and creative Gold Brick I've ever seen." Darcy had been looking to start his own crew, looking to start afresh, looking for like minded young people to have the world with. And Charlie had charmed him in seconds, bouncing around the room like a puppy before nonchalantly suggesting one of the most innovative scams he'd ever heard. They made £25k in one day, and Darcy knew that this was who he'd been looking for. His natural charisma made him the ideal roper and history was written.

He braced himself to begin.

"Ok. Thank you for coming today and apologies for interrupting your holidays. I know we said we'd have an extensive break…"

"Oh, nonsense, Darcy," Charlie cried. "God, I've been so bored for the last month!"

"I'm sorry to hear that, Charlie," Darcy smiled. "Well, the first thing I'm going to say is that what I'm about to suggest is entirely up to you. I will not force anyone to go along with it and I will bear no grudges if you decide to walk away, none at all, I mean it."

"Oooo, how exciting." Caroline purred.

"This is big," Darcy carried on. "And worst of all, it's personal to me."

"The great Will Darcy, going completely against his zen teachings!" Richard laughed loudly. "What is it you kept drilling into poor Charlie? 'Always detach yourself, always have control, do not let emotion cloud your judgement…'"

"That's Star Wars isn't it?"

"Well, if it is, you stole it."

"Enough, Richard," Darcy chuckled before getting serious again. "Ok, let's get to it."

He clicked onto the first slide.

"Rosings Park."

He heard the sharp intake of breath from the siblings, followed by the sighs. He had expected this.

"Now," he said quickly. "Before you dismiss me out of hand, I will say that…."

"It can't be done, Will," Charlie interrupted wearily. "How many times have we been down this road?"

It was true, Darcy could admit that. It was his obsession, the one thing that could be described as a weakness. His 'aunt', Catherine De Bourgh, had taken everything from him when he was a grieving mess. His mother and father had passed away in quick succession, leaving him orphaned and the sole carer to his young sister. She had played the parental role, said she'd do everything in her power to help him come through it. Had persuaded him to sign over the deed to Pemberley and the rest of his fathers estate to her, said she'd deal with all the paperwork and unnecessary hassle that he shouldn't' have to at this time. Not in the state he was in. When he was done grieving, he could have it back, she said. He, alone, broken, mourning and beyond depressed, had stupidly trusted her and agreed. He signed the papers, fell for her every line and made the biggest fuck up of his life. And when he'd gone to her, when he'd worked out his shit, after all the adventures with George, she might as well have laughed in his face. Oh, she was willing to let him manage Pemberley now, on her wage structure of course. She'd still take the profits. The profits and livelihood that should have been his. She said he had to prove himself first. So he did, he turned over more income than the major casinos in the country combined, restored Pemberley to all it's former glory and reached even higher, whilst still becoming the best long con player in the country. But still, she wouldn't budge. Now she was insisting he marry her daughter Anne, carry on their proud tradition and keep it in the 'family'. That was when he realised that she had no intention of ever letting go. He might have even been tempted to take her up on her offer, he got on reasonably with Anne, and he had no real romantic bone in his body, so he thought. But he knew she'd find another thing, another reason to delay. So he delayed himself. Even through his seething anger, he was aware that he needed to keep her close, keep her on side. Keep her sweet until he could figure out just how to take back what was his. And how he had tried. He had spies in every aspect of Catherine's life, in all her casinos, all her businesses, all her houses. He shelled out a fortune on architectural plans and surveillance, on attempted robberies and bribes, but still, he couldn't find the way in. There had been aborted plans, once they even worked close to six months on a daring 'Big Store', only for it to all crumble around them two weeks before the go. That's when he had given up. He could sense his crews frustration with him and he knew it was time to step away.

But now he knew, he just knew, that they could do it.

"I know, Charlie, I know," he soothed. "I know what I am asking of you, I understand your annoyance. Just please, hear me out. If you are unconvinced then walk away with my blessing. It will not affect our relationship in any way shape or form. You have all done so much for me, and I have no right to ask you for anything more. But I am."

Charlie paused before nodding at him, and Caroline smiled encouragingly, again reminding him of the person she used to be. He loved them both, more than he could ever put in to words, despite their flaws.

"God, stop being such a pussy, Darcy." Richard broke the tension, causing them all to laugh.

"Right then, so, Rosings Park," Darcy began. "As you know, one of the top three casinos in Vegas, owned by Catherine De Bourgh, weekly turnover of around 21 million dollars. One of the most advanced security systems in the world, thought to be impregnable to all but natural disasters. This isn't Ocean's Thirteen, so we'll rule that option out…."

"We know all this, Darcy," Caroline interrupted in a weary voice. "In case you're forgetting, we spent six months of our lives on this place…"

"Sorry," he apologised. "I'll skip the lecture then. But this is different, something's changed."

"And what's that?" Charlie asked.

"Firstly, two months ago, Rosings Park got taken."

He let the stunned silence fill the room. He could sense them asking the same questions that he had asked himself when Richard had first told him. How? Who? Who had succeeded where they had failed? They were the best crew in the world, the most successful grifters plying their trade. They'd spent half a year trying to crack this place.

"At this point I should point out that it was a very minor take in the grand scheme of things. Only around a million." Richard spoke up, serious for the first time.

"How the hell did they do it?" Charlie asked in wonder.

"We don't know." Darcy said simply and truthfully. No-one, not even Catherine, one of the sharpest minds in the business, had any idea how it had been executed. One minute it was there, the next it was gone.

"My best guess is that someone on the hot prowl stumbled on it by accident. Probably thought they'd take about a tenth of that, but they got lucky. But it's just speculation." Darcy mused.

"So if we don't know, how on earth does this help us?" Caroline questioned.

"Because they're spooked," Richard took over from Darcy. "Catherine is growing more and more paranoid in her old age and any little problem is causing an overreaction. She's surrounded herself with sycophants for advisors, and they all encourage her nonsense, not like the old days. The likelihood is that it was just a smash and grab. This happens all the time in Vegas, as we know. They keep it hush hush of course, but if it's only a million, then there is little to be concerned about. But Catherine….."

"She plans to overhaul the entire security system at Rosings," Darcy revealed. "And this gives us the chance to finally seize the initiative."

"I don't see how a tightening of security is in any way a good thing, Darcy." Charlie frowned.

"I agree, under usual circumstances, this would put the final nail in the coffin. But see, Catherine is finally making mistakes. Not only is this overhaul completely unnecessary, it's also being handled remarkably sloppily."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, first off, when I say overhaul, I mean total overhaul. All the tables, all the slots, all the cameras, everything is being replaced. And everything is being custom built in the UK."

"Here?" Caroline said with surprise. "Why the hell is she farming out everything here? America is built for this kind of thing."

"It seems Catherine is no longer trusting of the American way. She's always been a bloody patriot, loves the Royal Family, harping on about the British Empire, and now she's taken it a step further. Rule Britannia and all that. All this is being overseen by her new head of security, Billy Collins, a man who I am reliable informed is as incompetent as they come."

"Ok, ok," Charlie said, his frown still evident. "Even if this is all true, it still doesn't help us. We have no way and no way of knowing where it's all being built, who's doing it, how it's being done. The security and secrecy around it will be second to none. This gives us nothing Darcy."

"I disagree," Darcy said, smiling slightly. "If can find out the answers to the questions you just posed then we can go straight to the source. We can take it all. The place will be a sitting duck, waiting for us to take it whenever we please."

There was a pause as the others figured out just what he was suggesting.

"You want to rig an entire Vegas casino," Caroline said slowly, sarcasm dripping through every syllable. "You've lost it, Will. You must know that's impossible! Get to every slot, every table, every chip, every wheel, and then what? Just steal it all? Jesus Christ, it's fucking madness!"

"You want to rig a Vegas casino?" Charlie repeated his sisters words, in complete shock.

Darcy smiled.

"Well, yes and no…."

* * *

 _Half an hour later..._

The silence was unbearable for Darcy.

"I suppose it could work…" Charlie trailed off, unconvincingly.

"I don't know Will…" Caroline frowned.

"I know, I know." Darcy sighed. "But look, this is it. If not now then never! I know we can do this! We are the only people capable of pulling this off. All I ask is that we work it. Give it a chance. If at any point we stumble, if at any point we get stuck, I promise you I'll walk away. A few months, that's all I'm asking. But you have to decide for yourselves, right now. I reiterate, their will be no hard feelings. I'll give you ten minutes."

They were a long ten minutes. He paced up and down the car park outside, chain smoking Marlboros. Richard joined him when the ten minutes were up.

"They're still thinking." Richard told him, taking the cigarette from his lips and inhaling in.

"Are they going to say no?"

"I don't know."

"Are you going to say no?"

Richard paused.

"Look, you know I love you, cousin, but it's just too risky."

Darcy was crushed. He shut his eyes tight, felt the chance slipping through his fingers yet again. He couldn't do it without Richard. He opened his eyes and glanced at his cousin, who was looking straight back at him.

Smirking.

"You're a right bastard." Darcy let out with a relieved chuckle.

"Of course I'm in, you fucking prick! I hate that bitch almost as much as you!"

"Thank you, Richard," Darcy felt the emotion in him as he pulled the man into an embrace. "It means a lot. But we can't do it without the others…."

"I should hope not!" Charlie said jovially from behind him. "So, where do we start?"

Darcy turned, the widest of smiles on his face.

"One wrong move and we're out, William," Caroline warned. "This is not a commitment. We will work it for a while, see if it's possible, that's it."

He nodded, but couldn't stop smiling. Caro couldn't help but grin back.

So it began.

* * *

 _Slough, England, 9 Months Ago…._

"Ok, Caro, what have you got?" Richard clapped his hands together.

Caroline stood up and made her way to the front. Clicked onto the slide.

"Billy Collins, born third of April 1985, 31 years of age. Casino born and bred, his father was Raymond 'Eyepatch' Collins, ran small time gambling holes in the East End, before moving into security in New York. Young Billy became a self styled student of the game and was soon designing half baked security systems himself. Made a decent living as well, considering the quality of his work…."

"So, how do you go from two bit chancer to security advisor at Rosings Park within ten years?"

"Ah, here's where it gets murky. You see, rumour has it that Raymond Collins was working for years on a new, revolutionary security system, but before it was finished, he died. Using his fathers work, Billy finished it off and claimed it as his own. That security system is now known as PathSafe, used in countless casinos all over the world. Four years ago, Catherine, being the shark she is, got in there first and bought the rights for a sliver of what it is now worth. Part of that deal was a spot for Billy on her team."

"And now he's head of security?"

"Since they got robbed, yes," Caroline smirked. "He's a sycophant, adores Catherine, tells her what she wants to hear. We all know head of security is one of the easiest jobs in a casino anyway. You and me could do it with ease. It's difficult to fuck up, everyone else is doing the work for you. But Billy here is the one being trusted to oversee this security overhaul."

"So, what's the way in?" Charlie asked. "Money, drugs, women, men?"

"No to the first two. He would never willing turn against Catherine, I have no doubt about that. Drugs, he's as straight as they come. Doesn't smoke, doesn't snort, barely drinks. Boring little weasel really."

"So, women or men then." Charlie stated.

"Women, I think, but even that I'm not so sure on," Caroline mused. "He's pathetic and lonely, no doubt about it. He's always perving at Rosings. But somehow I don't think it's nasty, just… yeah pathetic."

"So, we give him hope," Charlie said. "We get someone on the inside. They flirt with him, let him take them out, laugh at his jokes. Then, we get what we need."

Darcy had thought of this already.

"No," he spoke up for the first time. "It won't work. We have to be more subtle. We have to get to him away from her, when he's in London overseeing the operation."

"It's a tight timescale then Darcy…" Charlie grimaced.

"Yes… and no," Caroline said. "You see, I've been thinking. I believe we're overcomplicating the whole thing. All we need is access to him, more importantly, access to this."

She clicked the remote and another photo appeared on the screen, a blown up photograph of a hand clutching a laptop bag.

"See, Billy's not the sharpest tool in the box. This takes that sloppiness you were talking about to a whole new level. According to a source, his whole work life is contained on this laptop. Now, the security on it is good, but workable. Retina scan, fingerprint and voice recognition, nothing Richard should have a problem with. I mean, we're not gonna get every spec and every measure, but we will get locations and access. Then we build from there."

"Can we get to it remotely with a server hack?" Charlie asked.

"I doubt it," Richard sighed. "The security will be too good for that. My guess is I'll need direct access."

"So, we get to the laptop," Darcy mused. "Shouldn't be too hard. Wait for him to leave it in his hotel and crack the safe…"

"Won't work," Caroline interrupted. "He takes it everywhere, and I mean everywhere. Sleeps with it handcuffed to him, I'm serious."

"Fine, fine, but I agree it's workable," Darcy stood up. "Just separate him from it for a minute…"

"I'll need at least ten minutes with it, Darcy." Richard warned.

"We'll figure that part out later. The more pressing concern is just how we go about infiltrating his trip to London. He'll know who I am, no doubt about it. It has to seem natural, has to seem organic, an unlikely, but explainable coincidence."

"The problem is that we're too famous," Richard smirked, but his tone conveyed concern. "If we're in London for any considerable amount of time, word will get around, there's no avoiding that. Maybe Charlie and Caro could slip under the radar, but no way the two of us could. We both worked in London years ago, we know too many people there. It'll raise suspicion, everyone will think we're playing a score."

"So, we need a reason to be there," Darcy nodded, the embryo of a plan beginning to form. "Misdirection. We make a big show of coming to town, some time before Billy does…."

* * *

 _Slough, England, 8 Months Ago….._

"Thomas Bennet," Richard clicked. "Head of the Bennet clan based in Shoreditch, London. A small time crime ring made up of mostly orphaned street kids who play the short con. Married to a Frances Bennet, maiden name Richards."

"Why are we looking at this Fagin creep?" Caroline sneered.

"Because this, my dear Caroline, is going to be our way to Billy Collins."

"How so?" Charlie asked.

"I warn you, it's a stretch and it relies heavily on whether we can get someone close enough to Billy before he gets to London. As far as I can tell, he has no connections in the city really, at least none outside Catherine's sphere. This is the only notable exception. Thomas Bennet grew up with Raymond Collins, our Billy's late, beloved father. They were thick as thieves, basically family, worked the Pigeon together in their youth. Lost touch when Raymond moved to New York in the late eighties, but apparently Raymond never forgot. Billy regularly regales his co-workers with stories of his father and Thomas Bennet's escapades, each as unlikely as the next."

"So you're suggesting…"

"We plant the idea. His trip to London is still a way off right? Around five months? We plant the suggestion somehow that he looks up Thomas Bennet when he is in London, maybe even stays with him instead of a hotel, though that may be tricky. It doesn't matter, as long as we find ourselves in the right place at the right time…."

"We get in with the Bennet's first," Darcy breathed out. "That could actually work, Richard."

"There's a lot of variables," Richard warned. "But I genuinely think this could be the way in. We befriend the Bennet's, get close to them, and then we just wait for him to come to London. We get introduced to him that way and then we begin."

"So, just how close do we get?" Caroline wondered aloud.

"As close as possible," Darcy replied. "What's the way in then, Rich?"

Richard brought up a photograph of three young women.

Darcy was caught straight away by the middle figure. She wasn't as pretty as the other two, in fact the blonde on the far right may well have been the most beautiful creature he'd ever seen. But there was something about the other one. The photograph was clear and of high quality. The brunette girl had a Mona Lisa smile, half grin, half smirk, that seemed to promise so much else. He shook himself away from such thoughts and focused on Richard.

"Far left is Lydia Bennet, a new addition to the crew, but I don't think she's a viable option, not much background on her. More promising are the other two you can see, Elizabeth Walker and Jane Morgan. Short con players, two of the key members of the clan. Good too, although they are currently on probation for attempted burglary. I think these two are our way to Thomas Bennet and thus Billy Collins. Bennet's wife, Frances, is ambitious, wants her girls to move up in the world. If a player with connections like Billy comes to town, I have no doubt she'll do everything she can to push him onto one of them. He'll be lingering around like a bad smell, plenty of opportunity for us to get to know him."

"So, we get Darcy and Charlie to charm the sweet sisters…" Caroline began.

"But this is the problem," Charlie said, pensively. "As we said before, our characters are known. If we plan to be in London for a while, we can't be acting. There are people there who know who we are, what our personalities are really like. We're conning fellow grifters here don't forget, some of which we have met and even worked with before. The London set is a small circle, undoubtedly we will share some mutual acquaintances with the Bennet's, it would be stupid to assume otherwise. They'll see through any disguise in an instant."

"What if…." Darcy began, before trailing off.

"What if what?" Charlie asked.

"What if we don't act," he said simply. "What if we just play ourselves, or at least, the public perceptions of ourselves? Keep it as close to the truth as possible. We don't pretend at all."

"But, we're grifters," Caro piped up, confused. "It's what we do, we take on characters, we tailor them to suit the marks reality. Who's ever played a score by being honest?"

"No-one, that's the beauty of it," Darcy stood up, beginning to pace. "Think about it, Caro! The sweetest grift of all because we're not actually grifting, although we actually are! We're just waiting for the right moment! The triple bluff. And it could work as well. It's perfect! If they think they know our characters, let's not disappoint them. Charles is the friendly one, the charming one, everyone likes Charlie, he's the in with the Bennet's. Caro you're…."

Darcy paused, not sure how to put it tactfully.

"Oh, for fuck sake, Will, I know what people think of me," Caro crossed her arms. "Stuck up bitch, privileged and spoilt, dangerously obsessed with you, Darcy, and a hanger on to my brother, the real grifter in the family."

Uncomfortable silence followed her words.

"If it makes you feel better, Caro," Richard said after a while. "I only think those things some of the time…."

"Piss off, Rich." Caro laughed in surprisingly good nature.

"Remember, it's the four of us," Darcy said, seriously, looking at each and every one of them. "That's all that matters, we're the only ones who know each other. Fuck everybody else, forever and always. Whatever they think of us, it doesn't matter. But let's use that to our advantage, let's use their ignorance and feed off it. So, what do they say about me then?"

It was silent again for a moment, before the other three smirked at each other.

"What?" Darcy asked.

"You know you're one of the most respected grifers in the game, Will, but…." Caroline began before Richard interrupted.

"People think you're a prick, Darcy. Rude, superior, cold, aloof, indifferent to everyone around you…."

"Ok, ok!" Darcy sighed. "I think I get the idea. That's what I'll give them. It all fits. Me and Caro disapprove of everyone around us whilst Charlie charms them. That way, suspicions won't be aroused when we are in London. If we all just started paying attention to short con players of no consequence, people would begin asking questions. However, if some of us disapprove, then those doubts will be deflected. Misdirection. They'll spend their time hating us instead of asking the real questions."

"It's all well and good, but we need to go back to the start," Richard said. "We need a good reason to be in London in the first place, one that won't set any alarm bells ringing. We need an in…"

"Ok," Darcy ran a hand through his hair. "Give me full background on the Bennet's….."

So, they continued on. Hours spent pouring over the lives of the Bennet's and those in their sphere. Who their friends were, who their enemies were, who they were themselves. Hours of intrusive details and coffee cups. Until finally, when they were approaching midnight, they were done.

Darcy leant back and closed his eyes, his mind whirring with possibilities. Just how to do this? How to make it seem organic, natural, how to impose themselves onto these people without seeming obvious? How to con the entire grifter population of London? He went out into the car park again for a cigarette, the plan coming together in his head as he smoked. Went back in.

"Ok, here's what we're going to do."

He smiled.

"I'm going to retire."

* * *

 _Lambeth, London, England, Seven Months Ago…_

"Delicious as always Marie. Your food is as beautiful as yourself." Richard winked roguishly at the beautiful French woman across the table, smacking his lips.

"Careful, Colonel," a voice interrupted with laughter. "Don't you go getting any ideas about my wife!"

"Wouldn't dream of it, Davey. Well, actually, now that I mention it, I have had a few dreams about her…."

Marie slapped his arm to raucous laughter around the dinner table.

"You're a swine." the man called Davey shook his head from across the table, chuckling away.

"Ah, you love it. Anyway, where was I? So yes, there we were, Singapore, race day. Oh it was a sweet score boys and girls! A consortium of Arabian businessmen primed and ready to invest. Everything was perfect, the set up, the convincer, everything was in place. We had fake sponsorship deals, we had fake media stories circulated, it was beyond planned. They genuinely believed that we were the real deal, that we were setting up a new Formula 1 team! Can you believe it? As Caro said at the time, 'the bigger the lie, the more they believe'. So true. But anyway, it was all good to go. We got there on practice day, the car was set up, we had a driver. It didn't need to be spectacular, it just had to look like an authentic lap. We were doctoring the time obviously. So we get them all into the executive suite, Charlie and Darcy were working the inside, smoothing their way around the room. And then suddenly I get the news. The bloody drivers gone awol! The only thing we needed had disappeared! Months of work, gone like that. I get hold of Darcy, and I'm saying we have to pull out, there's nothing we can do, it's gone to shit. But Darcy just smiled. Guess what he said? He said in that fucking smooth voice, 'get your helmet on then Richard!'"

The table erupted with laughter once more, the occupants eating out of Richards hand.

"No way!"

"You didn't!"

"How…"

"I know right," he raised his voice above the disbelieving voices. "I'm a bloody fixer! I work on alarms, computers, coding. I've never even been go-carting before for fuck sake!"

"What the hell did you do then Rich?" a voice called out full of mirth.

"What else could I do, Cyclops? I put the helmet on, strapped in and did the lap!"

"No you fucking didn't!"

Richard paused for effect before dissolving into laughter.

"No, of course I bloody didn't you gullible fools! I tell you what though, it was one of my moments of raw genius if I say so myself. I got in the car, got it to the start line, waited to begin. What they didn't know is that I had Caroline crouched under the window of the box they were in with a smoke machine. They were all watching, the green light goes on, Caro started the smoke machine and the last thing they saw was me apparently driving away before their view was completely obscured by the smoke! Said it was the exhaust fumes. We'd based the car on a little known test car, so we just fed a loop of a previous test run on video in the box. To them it seemed real enough! Then I snuck the car around the last bend and just cruised down the final straight at the end when they were looking. Blamed the lack of speed on a small mechanical failure. Still, I set a lap record though….."

The table burst out in astonished laughter again and Richard leant back, enjoying the aftermath of his yarn. It was all true as well. What a score that was….

"I tell you what, Richard, you and Darcy are the most reckless people in the game right now. But bloody brilliant all the same." David chuckled.

"Ah, but as Darcy says, it's all in the set up ladies and gentlemen. The battle isn't won in the final stage, no, that's just the flourish. They have to want to believe it, have to be so utterly convinced that any doubt is pushed further and further to the back of their minds until it disappears altogether."

"A marks a mark." one of the Swiss Twins nodded.

"Indeed," Richard raised his glass. "And let it always be so."

The table all raised their glasses with him in acknowledgment. Grifters together.

"With all this talk of grand scores, it's a wonder you're deigning us with your presence tonight, Colonel." Marie spoke up, friendly mocking in her tone.

"I like to keep it down to earth Marie," Richard said. "Got to spend some time with the little people. Besides, I heard Cyclops made quite the windfall last week…"

"Ten grand, not bad for a couple of weeks work." Cyclops nodded.

"Not bad at all, sir. Of course, I made 100k off that Singapore scam…." Richard trailed off in a mock superior tone.

Cyclops laughed good naturedly, his jaw wobbling in the process.

"But alas, those days may be passed now…" Richard continued, finally putting the big score into action. The first stage, what he was here for, why he was in London in the first place.

The table went quiet in anticipation. This was the right reaction. Obviously the subtle leaks had spread to the right people in the capital. He was working it spectacularly.

"Is it true then, Colonel?" Marie almost whispered. "Is Will Darcy actually calling it a day?"

He glanced around, careful to put a hint of trepidation on his face, drawing them in even more.

"No, no," he laughed uneasily. "Forget I said anything. Anyone for more wine?"

But the table was not to be distracted or put off. He smiled inwardly. He should have been the roper, not Charlie.

"Come on now, Richard," Davey implored. "You're amongst friends here. Everyone knows something's up…"

"Oh for God sake!" Richard let out. "Fine, fine, but if word gets back to my crew that I opened my mouth, I'm saying Marie spiked my drink so she could have her way with me….."

Laughter again, before everyone lent forward waiting for him to continue.

"There have been conversations," Richard admitted, slowly. "We are aware we have been walking a thin line, minutes away from being caught in Monaco, Interpol task forces, and obviously there's been this business with Georgiana…"

Truth be told, Richard was uneasy with this. Of course, the story of Georgiana Darcy was generally known, at least in pieces, by most of the criminal fraternity. Not all the details mind, but enough. They knew she was inside, serving a stretch. He didn't like bringing it up though, especially in a score. Darcy had ummed and ahed about this part of the script, but in the end had decided to use it. It was a ready made excuse for retirement, no-one would question it. Of course he wanted to be there for his sister.

"A terrible business." someone shook their head.

"Quite," Richard sighed before jumping straight back in. "So, we are having an extended break, but between us I believe Darcy has no intention of ever pulling off a score again. I think he's done with the long con."

There were gasps around the room. It was huge news for them. Will Darcy had such a reputation these days, it was universally agreed that he was currently the best long con player in the country if not the world. And he wasn't even 30. To call it quits now?

"It's a shame," Cyclops belched out. "That man could have had the entire world…"

"He did have the world," Richard smirked. "We had it all, five years of it."

"True enough." the Swiss twins nodded in unison.

"So, what are you going to do then, Rich?" Marie asked, a hint of concern in her voice.

"I'm thinking about getting out myself to be honest. I can't go back to freelance work and no crew will ever be the same again. I don't want to do this without Darcy…"

"Charlie and Caro?"

"Well, that's a different story. They are as hungry as ever I believe. It's past time Charlie stepped up and led his own crew, he's one of the most natural grifters in the game, can even give Darcy a run for his money. Yes, they'll do well for themselves I believe. Of course, they want me to come along with them, but I have politely declined. They need fresh blood, Charlie needs to step out on his own. Darcy will help him, no doubt about it, but Charlie needs to find his own way now."

"Has he got anyone in mind?" Cyclops asked.

"Sorry, Cyclops, but I think they're looking for some um _younger_ talent." Richard joked, causing everyone to laugh again.

"I can think of some suitable candidates." Marie offered, a glint in her eye.

"Sharks, the lot of you!" Richard cried dramatically. "Hey, some of you may well be in the picture. But as I said, it's not confirmed yet…"

"Why have I heard that Bingley's been putting the feelers out already then.." Marie said slyly.

Richard grimaced for effect.

"Oh bloody hell, Marie! Alright fine, it's a done deal. Darcy's retired and Charlie's coming down to London to set up roots ok? You happy now, you manipulative bastards?"

"Tremendously." Marie smirked.

"They will be coming down in one month, Darcy will also be there in an advisory capacity. I on the other hand will be sunning myself on the Costa Del Sol with the lovely Gloria…. But, friend to friends, it's been a while since we've been in London, so theoretically, if one was looking to recruit the best grifters in the city, who would be the person to see? And don't say yourselves, we all know that to be a lie."

They laughed again before piling in with their suggestions.

"Well, my cousin Florida Pete…"

"I have a friend in Hackney…"

"Of course, there's only one woman to go to…"

"You can trust this guy…"

"What about William Lucas? He's the most connected man in the city these days…"

Richard high fived himself inwardly. They hadn't even needed the push to say the name he was looking for, what this whole tiresome act had been for. That one name.

"William Lucas eh?"

* * *

 _The Netherfield, Canary Wharf, London, England, Six Months Ago…._

Darcy paced around the Netherfield penthouse suite, attempting to clear his mind. Attempting to achieve the clarity needed before a score. The nerves were there, the buzz, the adrenaline. This time it was different though, this time it was heightened. This was it. The score he'd been working his whole life towards. Everything he'd done, everything he'd learnt from everyone he'd ever come into contact with in this game, be it his father, Charlie and Caro, Richard, even fucking George, it had all led to this right here. The best crew that had ever existed, the last hurrah, his vindication of ten years of grief and strife, of money and fast cars, of smoky card tables and high rise penthouses. This was it.

They had to give the performance of a lifetime.

"Stop pacing, Darcy, for fuck sake!" Richard loudly intruded. Darcy just gave him a look.

"Ok, gather round." he said quietly, moving out to the balcony.

For a while they sat there, each lost to their own thoughts, worries, excitement, whatever. Drinking in the view of the city. There was always something about London. In the fading light began the electrical flicker, lights turning on all over this sprawling mess. They could just about hear the chaos beneath over the light wind. Darcy looked at his friends, his colleagues. Felt that familiar sense of pride in what they'd done together, and what they were about to do. It was different though. Usually, every score was meticulously planned down to a t, there was a script and everything. This time, the whole plan relied heavily on luck and improvisation. They would have to adapt every second.

"We all know our roles?" he said, knowing it was unnecessary. This had been six months of planning in the making.

"Of course, William," Caroline said with a hint of annoyance. "I'm the stuck up, superior sister, looking down on the company. Playing it fake nice at first, make more of an effort with Jane Bennet, leave Elizabeth to form another opinion. And of course, I'm 'in love' with you Darcy…""

"Well, all that shouldn't be too much of a stretch…" Richard mock whispered, easing the tension. Caroline shot him daggers.

"Be nice, Colonel," Charlie laughed. "I do what I always do, Darcy. I'm the approachable one, the friendly one, the one everyone likes. I'll make a beeline for Jane Bennet as soon as I can. Awkward but charming conversation, constant glances across the room to her, light flirting.."

"Not too obvious though." Darcy warned.

"How many times have I done this, Darcy?" Charlie soothed. "It will go like a dream."

"Such a hardship for you as well, Charlie, seducing one of the fittest women I've ever laid eyes on. The heart bleeds for you." Richard quipped.

"Someone's got to do it!" Charlie attempted to joke back, but Darcy saw a worrying hesitancy there. He shook himself away from that line of thought. Charlie was a different man now, an exemplary grifter and roper. It was just first night nerves.

"And I'm the unapproachable one," Darcy asserted. "Cold, aloof, distant, mysterious. Downright rude on occasion. The Bennet's will not like me and I will give every appearance of disliking them. I will disapprove of them, disapprove of Charlie's attention to Jane Bennet. In no way will they suspect that this is all just a big set up."

"You, aloof and distant? I refer back to my comments about Caro," Richard laughed. "You've been getting into this role for twenty nine years, Darcy. Remarkable method acting."

"You need to disappear tonight, Richard," Darcy ignored him. "We need you close enough by for when we get to Collins, but you can't be seen in London. You have a place sorted?"

"All in hand, Darce," Richard assured. "I have my very own man cave set up with all my toys. I can be in London within the hour if need arises. Secure phone connection, but use burners ok? One call then ditch the sim, let's not make it too easy."

"Fine. Louisa and Hurst?"

"Flying in from Dublin tomorrow. They know their parts, Darcy, don't worry about that."

"Good. It'll be good to see them in action again." Darcy nodded. Louisa and Hurst were old friends and excellent grifters, Darcy used them from time to time when a score required more hands on deck.

"Ok then," Darcy stood up. "Are we ready to do this?"

They nodded in unison.

"Ok. Let's go to work."

* * *

 **AN - I hope this makes a modicum of sense. More will be revealed as the story continues. Thanks for reading and all that. I'm suprised a fair few have stuck with this, so thank you very much.**


	17. The Long Con (Part Two)

**AN. Hello. As this is the third one I've posted in about four days, make sure you've read the previous ones, Alibi Store and The Long Con (Part One), otherwise this will make little sense. Hope you enjoy.  
**

* * *

 _The Elevens Bar, West End, London, England, Six Months Ago..._

Their taxi pulled up to the Elevens Bar in the West End at about quarter to nine. Fashionably late, already giving of the air of arrogance and importance before they had even entered. Darcy paid the driver and emerged with Charlie and Caroline. He glanced up and down the street to check they were alone as the cab pulled away.

"Ok, full character from now on," he said softly. "Remember this is the most important part of it. We have to be quick to improvise, have to take any opportunities that are presented to solidify our cover. We need to be at 100%, always focused, always with the objectives in sight."

"Any other clichés?" Caroline mocked him, causing him to laugh. She rarely made him laugh anymore, his mind flickered sadly.

"That's it. Let's go."

"Good luck!" Charlie hissed and led them inside towards a few hours that would decide everything. All the pieces matter…..

* * *

He noticed her straight away. Elizabeth Bennet. Everyone was dressed up to the nines, including himself, but she hadn't appeared to bother with such matters. If anything, it just made her look more appealing to him. He'd always held the appearances of 'top tier' grifters in slight disdain. Yes, they had to look the part when playing the game, but there was no need to forget who they really were in their time off. They were all criminals, all scum, he included himself in this, and was aware of the hypocrisy of his thoughts. It was refreshing for him to see someone who wasn't particularly worried about it all. She had nice eyes as well, he thought. Seeing them outside of the confines of a photograph suddenly drew him in more. They sparkled and laughed, but with an air of mystery. Deep brown. Mind you, he spied the woman she was talking to, surveillance had identified her as Charlotte Lucas. Now she was just taking the piss he inwardly chuckled. Doc Martens and grunge gear, swigging from a hip flask. Oh dear.

They moved through the crowds, Charlie pressing the flesh, Caroline the same but more haughtily. Darcy played his part and pretty much ignored everyone. That was the way it had to be. After a while, they organically approached the Bennet's and Charlotte Lucas from behind, obscured from vision.

"I thought I'd just walk in front of him, say 'hey Mr Bingley, I'm Jane' and then slut drop him."

"You hear that Darcy? Sounds like I'm in for quite the treat."

* * *

Charlie was playing it too perfectly, Darcy thought a little while later. He shouldn't be worried, Charlie had done more than prove that his past indiscretions were behind him and that he was immune to the silly crisis's and crushes that had plagued him at the start of his career. But Darcy had seen the look in his friends eye when he had been introduced to Jane Bennet. Whether it was just brilliant acting or something else was debatable. Surely it was the former, this was what Charlie did and did so well. He shouldn't be doubting his friend with a complaint that he was doing his job too well.

Darcy was playing it perfectly as well. He saw the disdain in Elizabeth's eyes when she caught his own. It caused a twinge of disappointment that was equally worrying. But he shook it off quickly, just had to remind himself why he was doing this. He heard the whispers begin about him, how rude he was, what a disappointment. Perfect. As he made his way around he room, he spied Elizabeth slip out onto the balcony alone with a fresh bottle of beer. He moved subtly over to the window and saw her relax onto a bench, hidden from sight of the main area. Time to improvise.

Luckily, Charlie was not too far away from him, and he had little trouble getting to him and getting him into a secluded comer reasonably quickly.

"You're doing well," he muttered, making sure any prying ears couldn't hear him. "That first line was a bit much, but you eased back perfectly."

"Thank you." Charlie said distractedly, eyes on Jane Bennet. Good, Darcy thought as Jane caught Charlie's eye and looked down quickly. He was remaining in character.

"Lizzy Bennet's just snuck out onto the balcony on her own. I think it's time we played a 'Backwards Leveson'.

"Ok."

"I'll go out for a smoke, come out a couple of minutes later, ease into it, natural conversation, something about quitting smoking. Turn the conversation to the Bennet's, praise Jane, I'll insult her and admonish you. She'll hear everything and her opinions will be cemented."

"Improvisation." Charlie raised his beer.

"Improvisation," Darcy clinked back. "Oh, and add an insult on after I leave…."

* * *

 _Covent Garden, London, England, The Next Day..._

"Will."

"George."

"I didn't know you were in London."

"Well, here I am. Come on, Charlie, let's go."

"I'm going to head up to Brick Lane with the Bennet's here. Why don't you join us, Darcy?"

"I think not."

He walked away, shaking with anger. George fucking Wickham was here, and worse, he appeared to know the Bennet's. How the hell hadn't that been picked up in the background checks? He never thought he would see that man again, the man who had done so much damage to him, to his sister. But it wasn't as simple as burning hatred. George inspired in him a cocktail of emotions, always had. The man who had saved him from his grief, the man he had loved as a brother, the man who had led him down the darkest roads, the man who had stolen from him, the man who had stolen years of his sister's life, and the man who now threatened his final vindication.

His hands still shaking, he pulled out his phone and called Richard.

"Fucking Wickham's here," he spat down the phone as soon as it was answered. "How the fuck did you miss his connection to the Bennet's?"

"George Wickham?" Richard replied, his voice laced with shock and anger. "Darcy, he never came up, I swear it. How's he connected to them?"

"I don't fucking know," Darcy almost shouted, causing Caroline, who had just approached him, to step back. "He's here and he looks very fucking cozy with them."

"Alright, calm down…" Richard attempted.

"Calm down? Are you kidding me Richard! He's going to ruin everything. He ruins my life, my sister's life and now this as well."

"He's not going to ruin this," Richard said firmly. "Look, we don't know enough yet. Where are Charlie and Caro?"

"Caro's here and Charlie's gone to fucking dinner with the wanker."

"Look, calm yourself down and put Caro on the phone."

"Why?"

"Just fucking do it, Will!" Richard got angry for the first time. Darcy had enough sense to yield to his cousin. If Richard got angry and told you to do something then you listened. He knew what to do, he was cooler of the temper than he was. He would be able to look at it objectively.

"What the hell is going on Richard?" he heard Caroline speak as he moved away from her towards a bench. He sat there with his head in his hands, forgotten memories and repressed emotions swirling around his mind and body. He wouldn't let George ruin this, he wouldn't.

"Will…" he felt Caro softly touch his arm and felt her presence as she sat next to him. Felt comforted by it, despite his misgiving towards her.

"I'm fine," he lifted his head. "What did Richard say?"

"We sit tight, go back to the hotel. Charlie will know what to do, he'll ask the right questions. It doesn't change anything, Will. He doesn't know what we're doing, no-one does except the four of us. It's just a bump. He can't hurt us.."

"He's already hurt me." Darcy replied darkly.

"He hurt all of us, Will," Caroline responded sadly. "Don't forget that."

* * *

 _The Netherfield, Canary Wharf, London, England, Five Months Ago..._

Again, Darcy found himself moving around an awful party. The Bennet's were yet to be seen, but the room was full enough with various important society and criminal figures. It was real as well, these weren't actors. They were all here under the impression that Charlie was going to be _the_ new player in town, and his reputation had got them to the penthouse. It had taken all his contacts and connections to get them here. What would they say, he wondered, all these politicians and policemen, lawyers and players, if they knew that this whole charade was set up just so Charlie could get close to a short con player of little consequence? He expected they'd be furious. It was unimaginable to them that they weren't the most important person in the room. Well, they weren't. The most important person was an orphan by the name of Jane Bennet who was on probation for attempted burglary.

Charlie and Caro were again playing their roles to perfection, as always. He was staying out of it, in full antisocial mode. He couldn't just turn it off and on for when the performance really began and the marks arrived. He felt the buzzing in his pocket and knew automatically that it was Richard. He was the only man to have the number. He moved outside to answer, annoyed. No contact during the go, that was 101.

"This better be good, Richard," he hissed. "You know we're in the middle of something."

"Sorry, Darcy, but we have a major problem." Richard spoke quickly back.

"What's going on.?"

"Billy Collins is about to board a plane to London."

No, no. This couldn't be happening. It was too fast, they hadn't set up yet. He wasn't supposed to be arriving for another month. This was a catastrophe. They weren't close enough.

"What the hell?" Darcy whispered, conscious of how close he was to the party guests behind the glass doors.

"I know, I know. I fucked up. Catherine brought it all forward, I missed it. I'm up to speed now, but I fear I'm too late."

"We're barely on first name terms with the Bennet's!" Darcy hissed. "Even Charlie can't work this quickly. I mean, he's doing great, but we're not ready yet. He needs to spend more time with her to make it seem less suspicious!"

"Well, he has one more night I'm afraid. The good news is that Collins is staying with the Bennet's. He took to the plants suggestion."

"That's one good bit of news. But still, I'm not sure it's workable. We're not ready."

"You're going to have to be," Richard said in a serious tone. "Remember who we are Darcy, remember who you are. Remember what we're doing this for. Whatever it takes ok?"

Richard hung up the phone, leaving Darcy dismayed and at a lost. He needed to talk to Charlie and Caro, needed them to bounce off. But that wasn't possible, they were in the middle of a score. Even worse, as he glanced through the window, he saw them greeting the Bennet sisters. It was too soon. Too soon.

Most worryingly of all, was his reaction to seeing Elizabeth Bennet. For a moment, he forgot where he was completely and just got lost in her vision. He thought she was beautiful and it was nice to see her unguarded, when she wasn't looking at him with disgust. He shook himself and went back to the task at hand.

His mind turned. The plan was backfiring. In their attempts to seem natural, in their attempts to distract everyone from the real play by pretending to dislike everyone, they had taken away any wiggle room. They needed to spend as much time with them as possible today, needed Charlie to work his socks off, but no way would Elizabeth allow that. She would stay the bare amount of time possible, and drag Jane out the door with her. What the hell was he going to do? Could he change his tack, could he and Caroline begin to attempt to charm the sisters instead? No, he dismissed, they were too far down the other road. How to keep them here? How to make Charlie seem like an angel in both their eyes. How to…..

"Darcy, the Bennet's are here…" he heard Caroline's voice.

He looked round and saw her face fall. They knew each other so well. She knew something big was wrong straight away.

"What is it?" she asked, moving close to him, leaning on the balcony rails, checking no-one was around and that they were shielded from the conversations indoors

"Billy Collins is arriving in London tomorrow." he said simply, leaving Caroline's mask to slip and her face crumble.

"Fuck," she hissed, glancing inside again. "We're not ready! It's too soon, suspiciously too soon!"

"I know." he sighed.

They were quiet for a moment, knowing that they had to come up with something in the next minute or they were completely screwed. Darcy hit on an idea, but dismissed it out of hand as morally wrong. He wouldn't do that.

That was when Caroline turned to him.

"Leave it with me," she winked, face now alight with mischief. "I only need one thing, if we have it then we're back on."

"What do you need." he narrowed his eyes.

She laughed and moved away from him, reaching the door before turning back.

"Castor oil."

Her words hit like a tonne of bricks.

"No, you can't! Caro, fucking hell, Caro…"

But she was through the doors quicker than he could stop her. He heard her voice waft through the room.

"Jane darling, let me get you a cocktail…"

* * *

 _The Netherfield, Canary Wharf, London, England, The Next Day..._

"We'll see, Rich," Darcy sighed. "I think we may still be on, but I don't know….."

"You sound worried." Richard replied.

"I am. What Caro did, it's not on, not right. This is lurching from disaster to disaster."

"We knew this was flaky from the off, Darcy," Richard responded. "Look, if we have to walk away then we walk away, ok? Let it play out for a while longer, hang in there…"

"We've barely even started….." Darcy said, his tone seeped in worry.

"I know, it's not exactly running like clockwork. Do you want to walk away now? This is the moment right here where you still can."

"No, it's no problem but I may need you in London next week is all…"

He heard the floorboard creek and span round to see Lizzy Bennet, sleep still in her eyes, dressed in jeans and a tank top that left little to the imagination. God, was she trying to kill him? He hated how he was around her, how she made him react. The problem was that because he was playing this version of himself in this score, it was easy to briefly forget what they were doing. The few times he'd found himself talking to her, he'd made slip ups, words that could maybe raise suspicion. His instant defence of Caroline yesterday had been one such occurrence, it's what he would do normally so he did it, forgetting that it didn't fit with who they were portraying. It was a dangerous situation, one that he was struggling with.

And more importantly, just how much had she heard?

"Look, I'll speak to you later. Charlie is very keen to meet you."

* * *

The door closed behind them, leaving Caroline and Darcy alone for the first time since the incident. He looked at her with pure rage, every fibre of his body screaming out at her.

"Well, I think that went like a dream." Caroline smirked.

He knew when she was goading him.

He gave her a look of disdain before reaching for his cigarettes and making his way across the room, only to be stopped by Caroline's hand on his arm.

"Oh, come on, Will, don't be like that…"

"Like what, Caro!" he exploded, spinning around to face her quick as a flash, his anger no longer contained. "You want to be congratulated? You want me to say well done? Do you know how dangerous that little stunt of yours was?"

"Castor oil is a perfectly natural and safe way of inducing sickness. A little drop in her drink won't harm her, Jesus…"

"There's things we don't do, Caroline! Lines we don't fucking cross! Dragging an innocent into this is bad enough, but to do that to the poor girl? Make her ill, humiliate her in front of people?"

Caroline looked at him for a moment and he knew what was coming next. He'd seen her angry enough times.

"I just saved this fucking score, William!" she shouted at him, flecks of spit showering his face. "I did what had to be done! None of us want to fucking be here you know, not even Richard, whatever he says to your face! We're doing all this for you! This is the weakest score we've ever planned, nothing is guaranteed, there are no fall backs, nothing! Do you have any idea of the risks we are taking just so you can have your little revenge? I put our chances of pulling this off at 50/50 and that's not fucking good enough. But still I'm here, risking my future for you. And how do you pay it back, Darcy eh? Having a breakdown over George Wickham? How do you and my brother pay back my loyalty? By both making fucking eyes at the Bennet sisters like hormonal teenagers? It's pathetic! So pull your shit together before I decide my debt to you only goes so far…"

She stormed out of the room, leaving Darcy momentarily stunned.

The worst thing was, he knew she was completely right.

* * *

 _Slough, England, A Few Days Later_

He decided to take them all out of London, just for the day. They needed to talk, needed to discuss what they were doing and if they could continue. He was worried about Charlie, his behaviour had been off, he was becoming prone to long silences with troubled looks, or worse, he was smiling at nothing. Darcy had the suspicion that he was falling for Jane Bennet. He was also scared for himself, and his uncharacteristic attraction to Lizzy Bennet. He couldn't explain it, to be honest, she wasn't the most likeable of human beings and definitely thought quite a lot of herself. But she had something about her that drew him in every time.

He needed to address it.

They settled into the Slough conference room, Richard was already waiting.

"What's all this then, Will?" he asked, concern in his voice. "What's going on?"

"We're here because I'm growing concerned. I am the leader of this crew, this is my score, I have a responsibility to all of you. I fear that I may be unable to pull this off and keep you all safe. I'm worried that I've overreached this time."

"No," Charlie spoke up quickly. "It's going fine."

"I also have concerns about you, Charlie," Darcy looked him in the eye. "I've watched you play the honey trap countless times, but this is different. You're different. I want an honest answer now. Are you falling for Jane Bennet?"

Charlie's silence said more than words ever could.

"Oh, for fuck sake, Charles!" Caroline sighed.

"I can't help it!" Charlie stood up, beginning to pace. "From the first moment, it was just different. She's the sweetest, most beautiful person I've ever met…"

"It's not real, Charlie!" Richard said with steel. "You're playing a score! You've deliberately targeted her, deliberately started a relationship with her, you've done this not out of attraction but because the fucking plan required it!"

"I know," Charlie ran a hand through his fro. "I know all this, but I can't help it! She makes me want to just pack it all in…."

"Charlie…" Caroline warned.

"Look, if I could just tell her, we could bring her in on it…"

"Absolutely not!" Darcy shouted. "Richard's right. You're being a child! I thought we'd got over this, these pathetic crushes ruining our scores, but clearly not."

"And what about you, Darcy?" Caro sneered, leaping to the defence of her brother by attacking. "Staring at Lizzy Bennet constantly, letting things slip to her? Practice what you fucking preach!"

"I have no interest in Lizzy Bennet. Unlike some people I have little problem separating fact from fiction."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Charlie got angry.

"You know exactly what it means." Darcy sneered.

"I think I love her, ok?" Charlie shouted, stunning the room into silence.

Darcy was furious. Charlie was throwing it all away for another stupid, romanticised ideal.

"Okaaaay," Richard drawled out. "Let's all just take a deep breath. In and out, come on, kids, do it with me. In and out, in and out, in and out."

"Oh, shut up, Colonel, for fuck sake." Caroline snapped.

Silence. Then Richard laughed. Then Caro joined in. Then Darcy. Then Charlie. Before long, they were clutching their sides, laughing harder than ever before. It was desperate, resigned, ridiculous laughter. It was just a tension release. They rarely argued, in all their years together, there had never really been cause to. Everyone's roles were set, and everyone was nigh on perfect at their jobs. But Charlie, he'd always been the loose canon, probably because he was the most decent human being of the lot. He was too emotional, too much like a real person.

"What are we going to do then?" Caroline asked, and the tension reappeared.

"I'm sorry. I really am," Charlie said. "But I really can't help it. I love her."

It was then Darcy knew he had to make a decision. Some may look at it simplistically, it was a choice between his friend and the score. Surely it should be a no brainer. But it was more complicated than that. Firstly, Charlie had a history of this kind of thing, he was generous with his affections and who knew what he would feel a month down the line. Secondly, Darcy was unsure about Jane Bennet herself. She seemed like a nice girl, but it was obvious that starting a relationship with Charlie would be hugely beneficial to her. She was a short con player with few connections and if he was honest he wasn't convinced that she wasn't using his friend. She seemed to enjoy his company, but she was reserved, sometimes to the point of standoffishness. Did she really feel the same as Charlie? He didn't think so and he knew Caroline agreed with him. And thirdly, and most selfishly, this was his score, his opportunity to gain back what was his. Charlie wanted to ruin that by pulling this shit now?

He decided to delay.

The saving grace was that the Bennet's part in this was all but finished. Just one more night, the night of the poker game, and then they would leave them alone.

"Ok," he sighed. "We carry on for now. Charlie, you owe me that at least. Play this until the next stage, then we can discuss the future."

Charlie sighed, but nodded all the same.

"Thank you," Darcy said. "Look, once this is over, maybe you can carry on with her. But you can't tell her, Charlie, you can't tell her what we've been up to. I won't put myself, Caro and Richard at risk like that. Remember how much we've all been through together. Don't throw it away for something that could turn out to be fleeting."

"It's different, Darcy…" Charlie began.

"I need your word, here and now that you won't tell her," Darcy interrupted. "Not until it's over. And I mean _all_ over."

Charlie looked like he was going to argue, but a look at Caro appeared to change his mind.

"Ok. You have my word."

"Excellent," Darcy nodded. "Now go back to London, I'll be along shortly."

"Roger that. Coming, Caro?"

"I'll get a ride with Darcy." Caroline said, coldly.

"Caro…."

"Just go, Charlie!" she almost shouted. "I'm fucking pissed off at you, the last thing I need is to be in a confined space with your stupid mug."

Charlie walked out sheepishly, as well he might, leaving Darcy, Richard and Caro.

* * *

"What are we going to do about this?" Richard asked, watching Charlie's car pull out the car park.

Darcy sighed, decision made. It was perhaps the worst thing he'd ever done. He felt horrible for what he was about to suggest.

"We need to give him an out."

The beauty of this score in the planning stage was that it was all based on a certain level of truth. Darcy was retiring, Charlie and Caro were eventually going to set up their own crew. The plan had been for the siblings to stay in London a little while longer, maybe even set up that crew. The lies could become the truth. Charlie and Caro had played most of their part, they would only be needed in the final stages, still a few months from now.

"He's our friend, Will." Richard stated uneasily.

"I'm doing this for him! Come on, how many times has he done this? He's always declaring himself in love. It's not real, it's the adrenaline, the fantasy, I don't know."

"She doesn't feel the same," Caro spoke up. "I know someone in love, and she's not."

"I agree." Darcy nodded.

"We need to get him away from her as soon as possible. Yes, it may look suspicious, but he can't be around her any longer than necessary. If you two aren't there, he'll tell her, I'm sure of it. As soon as you go, he'll cave, I know my brother. If I can get him back home, I can talk some sense into him."

"But how can we do that? If you all just disappear straight away, it'll raise said suspicions." Richard pointed out.

"We could create a business emergency back home for him I suppose, one that'll need him to go back for a week at least." Caro suggested.

"It's not enough," Darcy sighed. "We need something else, we need to open his eyes, plant a seed of doubt about her. His loyalty to us will do the rest. And we need an out that convinces the rest of the world as well, including the Bennets…."

Darcy was struck with an idea. Not a very nice one.

"We've been playing off our fame this whole time, right?" he began slowly. "We could take it to the next level. Introduce outside forces…"

"These outside forces being?"

"The police," Darcy said, simply. "It's the perfect out. The police warn Charlie off, start asking questions of everyone, including the Bennet's, then we leave and say that it was getting too hot. Everyone will believe that. They know we're wanted. I can bring in some unknown grifters to play the part of the coppers…."

"You want to con Charlie into thinking the police are coming for him?"

"And that Jane Bennet is possibly working with them," Darcy shut his eyes, not wanting to see the expressions on his friends faces. The looks of disgust. "They harass her a little, we get some photos that show her talking to them, and then when Charlie gets back to Manchester we hit him with it, plant those seeds of doubt. The photos, her indifference, materialistic gains. We save this score and we can save him from himself. Then, I'll set him up with a score too big to miss, far away from London. I heard that Welsh Pete needs a roper to sell the Sydney Opera House… "

Silence followed. He took it as acceptance.

The three of them were about to cross a line they couldn't come back from.

"Question is, who are you going to bring in at short notice?" Caroline frowned. "It has to be someone unknown, has to be someone off the radar….."

Darcy thought for a moment.

"I was hoping to save this until later. But I think it's time to get an edge."

"Who you thinking?" Richard asked.

"The Italian."

"Don't be ridiculous, Darcy!" Caroline scoffed. "The Italian? The man's a myth."

"I assure you, _she_ is not."

* * *

 _Krakow, Poland, Four Years Ago. Pemberley, Edinburgh, Scotland, Two Years Ago. _

Many in the game today claimed that William 'Picasso' Darcy was the greatest grifter of his generation. They said his record was unmatched, said he had a grift sense that put everyone else to shame, said he had a brain that could analyse as quick as a computer, and a mind that could read people equally as fast. Simply put, he was a genius.

But Darcy was one of the few who knew their was someone out there who was better.

The Italian.

Few knew the name. Most of those who had heard it whispered wrote them off as a myth, a grifter ghost story if you will. The legend went that The Italian was a former mafia foot soldier who had grown tired of the violence of gangland Naples and conned the head of a notoriously violent family out of 10 million Euros. So began a spate of some of the most daring and unbelievable scams the world had ever seen. Affiliations with the Pink Panthers, the Yakuza, the Mexican Cartels, the Delta Crime Syndicate, the IRA, and the Russian Mafia were all whispered about, and the list of scams he had pulled off with help from these groups were legendary. So legendary, that no-one actually believed them.

But it was true apart from one glaring error.

The Italian was a woman.

Even Darcy didn't know exactly where she came from. Somewhere in Eastern Europe definitely, but beyond that he was clueless. What he did know was that she was trafficked into Italy as a fifteen year old to work as a prostitute for the Camorra family in Naples, soon becoming a favourite of the powerful men in the organisation. Passed around like a piece if meat, having all childhood innocence beaten and fucked out of her, she resolved on her eighteenth birthday to have her revenge. So, she took the head of the family for ten million in a score that defied logic. She worked The Wire. The Wire was an old scam that had been mythologized in the film, The Sting, but had no place in the communication age. It had been based around the delivery of racing results by telegram. The grifter would persuade the mark that they could delay this process, thus finding out the results of the races before they became known and allowing them to bet on a sure winner. Nowadays in a world of live streaming, it was of course impossible. What the Italian did was set up her own fake betting shop, delaying both internet and television feed by around one minute. Couple of convincers, then boom. Ten million, gone. By the time the marks had worked it out, she was gone, and the legend was born.

Darcy came to know her by accident really, although he soon realised that she did nothing by accident. He'd heard the tales of course, but he hadn't believed them either. The Italian was just a myth. Until she wasn't. Until one day she sauntered up to him in a church of all places. Darcy had always liked churches. He wasn't a religious man by any means, didn't believe in some all seeing, all knowing higher power. Didn't understand how anyone who took even a passing interest in the news could. Bombs being dropped, countries swimming with refugees. No, the closest thing to Gods in this world were the 1%. But he liked the stillness and the quietness of a church. A temple of calm where one could sit and not be disturbed. When he was first staring out, first making a name for himself, about one year after he and his crew had been birthed, he found himself in a church in Krakow, Poland, around Christmas time. They were playing a score in the city, obviously. He was consumed with guilt that he would not be going home to see his sister for Christmas, disgusted with his selfishness, self hatred was boiling over. So he had come to punish himself somewhat, to have a place where he could really _see_ himself for who he was, with no distractions, no justifications. That's when she had come for him.

"I've always hated Christmas." those were her first words to him as she sat down on the pew in front of him. Even the location she sat in was deliberate, most would sit behind so they could have the other at a disadvantage, but The Italian was different. She understood that the ultimate display of power was to prove that you really didn't care what was going to happen next.

"Excuse me?" he had said, annoyed that his angst was being interrupted.

"Christmas. I hate it. The falseness of hope. The belief that all will be better by the next one."

Darcy detected the accent, even though the English was perfect. Couldn't place the odd mix of British, Italian and God knows what else.

"Quite." he said, standing up, prepared to walk away from what could very well be a lunatic.

"Sit down, William." she had laughed. He had sat back down.

"You know my name," he kept his cool. "That means you're either a cop, a grifter, or someone who I have wronged. If it's the first two, then this conversation is over, if it's the third, then please just get on with whatever it is you're going to do to me. I have never enjoyed the theatrics. So which is it?"

"None of them, strictly speaking." she had laughed again, turning to face him. His eye caught the snaking tattoo up her neck straight away, the piercing dark eyes that gave nothing away whatsoever. The sheer masterpiece that she was, the kind of woman that men would start wars over.

"I'm _the_ grifter." she had finished.

Darcy didn't know what to make of her. After that initial meeting, where little more was said, she began to pop up in his life infrequently over the next couple of years, always with that enigmatic smile, always asking what he had been up to, although it was clear she already knew the answers. Darcy had enjoyed it in a way. Firstly, it was exciting. Secondly, it was nice to have something all to himself, a secret rendezvous that no-one else knew about. Thirdly, and most importantly of all, it was thrilling to have someone in his life who he couldn't read in an instant. But then it started to get frustrating. He started to panic, realising that this woman could be anyone. Finally, two years ago, he had snapped and exploded at her when she had turned up in the gardens of Pemberley.

"Who the fuck are you?" he had shouted.

She had smirked, leant forward and brushed her lips against his.

"I'm The Italian."

It had all made sense. She had told him some of it, who she was, the scores she had pulled off, why she had started. Why she had sought him out, why she had taken an interest in him. And they had ended up in bed together.

Darcy had not seen her since that night, when he'd woke up the next morning, she had gone. But somehow, he knew she would come if he asked. He knew it. And she did.

* * *

 _Slough, England._

"How far you have come, William." The Italian purred as she entered the conference room, full of the usual mystery and self confidence. Her hair was longer than he remembered it being, her face a little more tired, but she was still the embodiment of perfection.

"What, Slough?" he joked, causing her to laugh that melodic sound. Richard and Caroline looked confused. It wasn't often he made jokes.

"I must admit, I expected our next meeting to be a little more glamorous. But no, I mean you. I hear they call you 'Picasso' now…."

"I'd rather they didn't." Darcy rubbed his neck in embarrassment.

"Oh, nonsense. Don't tell me a little part of you isn't just _thrilled_ by it." she whispered.

"Richard, Caroline, let me introduce you to the greatest living con artist. The Italian." Darcy ignored her.

"A pleasure."

"A real honour."

The Italian waved away their effusions.

Darcy smirked at the looks of shock on Richard and Caro's faces as they were introduced to what they had thought to be a myth. This was why The Italian was so good, you see. Whereas Darcy, despite his best efforts, had achieved fame and notoriety, she had managed to convince the world she didn't exist. Fame and notoriety she had, yes, but no-one thought she was actually real. That, along with her uncommon skill, was what made her the best at what she did. She existed in a plain beyond mere mortals. No-one, not even Darcy, and he had the feeling he may well be the closest in the world to her, knew her actual name.

The greatest trick the Devil ever pulled was convincing the world they didn't exist.

"I have taken this meeting out of curiosity," The Italian addressed Richard and Caroline. "William I know, you two I don't. So here are the rules. You do not tell a soul you have ever seen me, you do not even hint at any form of association. If I hear you have been talking out of turn, and be sure I will hear, bragging about how you have met me, you will be dead within the week. Do you understand?"

Richard and Caro nodded mutely, The Italian could be a scary figure. And if the stories were true, she was connected to some of the most brutal and downright evil organisations the world had ever seen.

"Excellent. Well then, the pleasure is all mine. So, William, what exactly is it that has you calling me up? It must be big, no? Must be the biggest score of your life I would guess. Or perhaps, you're in trouble and need a way out?"

"To be honest, it's both." Darcy admitted, holding eye contact. He wasn't ashamed of asking for help.

"You're going after Lady Catherine De Bourgh, and your roper has fallen in love with his mark, that about right?"

Richard and Caroline looked stunned, but Darcy had stopped being surprised by the woman's knowledge. Every whisper got back to her somehow, she had always known exactly what was going on in his life, he hadn't expected this to be any different.

"That about sums it up." he shrugged.

"What's your plan then?"

Darcy went through the whole thing, stage by stage, with occasional interruptions by Richard and Caro. The Italian gave nothing away as he explained the intricacies of the score, right down to its final moments.

"It's a good plan," she nodded when they had finished. "A little risky, but hey, everything that's worthwhile always is. But you have a problem. Remarkably careless of you, William, to keep working with a roper who has form for ruining scores in this way."

"That's my brother you're talking about!" Caroline snarled.

"When I want your opinion I will ask for it."

"Fucking….."

"Enough, Caro," Darcy sighed, before redirecting his attention to The Italian. "Look, Charlie Bingley is one of the best grifters I have ever worked with, he was born to do this. He's slipped up and now I have to put him back on course. That's what's happened, so I have to deal with it."

"And how are you going to do that? And where do I fit in?"

Darcy told her what he wanted her to do. Explained that although this was elementary stuff for her, way below her pay scale, he needed someone who was the best, someone who's face wasn't known by anyone. Someone who could pull of pretending to be a copper with absolute natural ease.

She agreed to it.

"You owe me for this, William," she warned as she was rising to leave. "I'll use Ray as backup on this one…."

"Ray?" Darcy narrowed his eyes.

"Jealous?"

"Absolutely not. I can't have just anyone in on this…"

"You think I would work with anyone who wasn't 100% trustworthy and the best?" she scorned.

"Ok, fine." Darcy sighed.

"I'll see you on the other side then." The Italian made for the door.

"Wait!" Darcy stopped her. "There is one more thing…"

* * *

 _The Netherfield, Canary Wharf, London, England, Five Months Ago..._

Charlie waited by the door, greeting his guests with as much enthusiasm as he could muster. He loved her. He loved Jane Bennet. He knew it was true. But it couldn't be that simple. He owed Richard, Caro, he owed Darcy everything. This had been their crew, something they'd built together, and he was failing his friend at the last. The friend who'd taught him more about grifting than he ever thought was possible and had made him what he was today. The conflict was killing him. He didn't know if he could hold it together anymore. One more night, he kept repeating, one more night, then he could escape to Manchester for a week, get his head straight. This business with an associate up North couldn't have come at a better time for him. It would be difficult to be away from Jane, but it would just be for a week. He could plan what he was going to say to her. When he returned, he was resolved to tell her everything. Hopefully she could forgive him. Hopefully she could keep it quiet as well, for Darcy's sake. He was putting love before his friends. It felt horrible and beautiful at the same time.

This thing with the police was nagging at him a little, but not too much. Darcy and the rest had reacted with more concern than he thought was warranted, but he knew they were just looking out for him. In the end, he had always thought something like this might happen, word may spread to the wrong people about his intentions in the city. But the MET was understaffed, underfunded, unequipped, to pose any serious threat. This was not Interpol. It would be fine, it was just a desperate warning shot that he saw right through.

Now, he needed focus. He needed to be at 100%. But how could he be when she looked like that, he asked himself as Jane Bennet appeared with her family. He forgot for a glorious moment who he was, why he was here, what he was supposed to do. But then Darcy's face came into his head. He owed him this, owed him this last night.

"Bennet's! Lovely to see you all tonight!" he enthused, his eyes still on Jane. "And Mr Collins as well!"

Charlie made sure to stick out his right hand, so Billy would have to shake it with his handcuffed one. As they shook hands, Charlie put his left hand on top to form a two handed handshake. All the while, his right hand searched underneath the cold steel of the handcuffs for the pressure point, pressing down on it gently but firmly. Billy wouldn't feel a thing, at least not for a few minutes….

* * *

"Ok, good we're all here!" Charlie grinned at the occupants of the room. "Now remember everyone, this is a friendly game. No fighting, yes, I'm looking at you Cassie! Is everyone ready? Billy, you ok?"

"Yes, yes," he sweated, holding onto his hand, clearly in discomfort. "It's just this briefcase giving the wrist a bit of grief."

It had worked, Charlie smiled inwardly. The human body was a truly remarkable thing. The right force on the right area and you could manipulate pain itself.

"Well old boy, give it here and I'll have it locked in the safe for you. You can't go playing poker with that thing hanging from the table! Your wrist will snap after three hands!"

"Oh no, I never let it out of my sight see," Billy shook his head, seriously, exactly what they had expected him to say. It was never going to be that easy. "Important business on there for mine and Lady Catherine De Bourgh's eyes only. Can't have anyone poking around it."

"How about you cuff it to the chair then?" Darcy remarked. It was said with just the right amount of boredom, casualness and annoyance to register properly and not arouse any suspicion.

"Splendid idea, Darcy!" Charlie said, perhaps a little too enthusiastically he thought, seconds after he said it. However, it seemed to go unnoticed.

"I suppose it could work," Billy agreed, inspecting the chair. "I'll lock it onto this middle bit here then…."

"Darcy, give the bloke a hand would you?" Charlie admonished his friend, putting the plan into action.

* * *

Darcy helped unlock the handcuffs, and crouched down, hidden from the sight of most. He was careful to act bored and nonchalant, nodding along to Billy's effusions. Collins was so lost in his own droning voice that he wasn't really paying attention to what Darcy was doing. What Billy didn't know was that this chair had been designed to a very specific spec and he had been sat in it purposefully. The middle bit of the chair that connected the two legs looked like any other sturdy bit of oak, but if you pressed it just below on the left side, the middle part collapsed in two like a drawbridge, slowly and subtly. They had had to make sure it was one of them who cuffed the case, unlikely as it was, Billy might accidentally trip the switch if he was down there. Darcy stood up, finished, phase one complete….

* * *

Collins was going to fuck this right up, Darcy groaned inwardly. They had expected the man to be pretty poor at poker, but they hadn't expected him to be this dire. He was going to go out before Caroline did her stuff. That couldn't be allowed to happen. Darcy attempted for a few minutes to manoeuvre them into a position where he or Charlie could allow Billy a big win, thus prolonging his stay at the table until they were finished. After about ten minutes, the opportunity presented itself. Collins pushed and Darcy went with him till the last, folding as the pot was at its biggest. He saw Elizabeth and the Lucas girl share a look, he knew it was a little suspicious, but he was pretty sure he'd gotten away with it.

Finally, Caroline appeared.

* * *

Caroline was waiting a few floors down in an empty suite as the party got going. Richard was sat at the desk, his toys laid out in front of him, ready for the go. Louisa was lay on the bed, eyes closed. All around them were shopping bags, teaming with expensive items. It was all superfluous, only two of the bags held any real meaning. In a nondescript yellow plastic bag, a black briefcase was hidden, an exact replica of Billy's' complete with handcuffs. In another red one, there was nothing. A whole score, five months worth of planning, relied on two flimsy bits of plastic.

"It's time." Richard said.

Caroline stood up and began to laden herself with bags, making sure the yellow one was well hidden in the middle.

"Wish me luck."

She struggled to the lift, pressing the button for the penthouse. Took a deep breath and composed herself. This was going to be easy, she reassured. A simple switch, a simple drop, one that any short con player worth their salt could do in his sleep. That was the beauty of Darcy's plans. Even at their most elaborate, they were rooted in such simplicity. She heard the lift ping and she stepped out into the party.

Greeted a few people, but made her way quickly to the side room where the poker game was taking place. She steeled herself one last time and crashed through the door.

"Charlie, I'm so sorry I'm late!" she breathed out dramatically. "Me and Louisa lost track of time. Where is the bloody service in here as well? I had to carry these bags up all by myself and Louisa's having to park the car! Can you believe that!"

As she was pulling this little performance, she moved casually but carefully between Darcy and Collins. She'd already spied as she walked in that Darcy had made sure Billy's briefcase was in the perfect place for her. Dropped the bags on the floor, seemingly randomly, but in reality it had been practiced a thousand times. The yellow bag containing the fake case dropped right next to the real one on Billy's side, obscuring it from his view. The red one dropped perfectly on the other side.

"The staff are attending to the party, Caro," Charlie said. "You know, the one you insisted on having, organised, and then promptly forgot to show up to."

"Well, I'm here now. Darcy, be a darling and help me with these will you? I won't get through all the people on my own."

"We're in the middle of a game, Caro!" Hurst pretended to admonish, Caroline inwardly smirking at the fake slur in his voice. He played a drunk remarkably well. "Breaks not due for another half hour."

"It's fine, deal me out of the next hand," Darcy waved him off, throwing in his blind and bending down.

Caroline crouched down also, under the pretence of helping, releasing the false bottom from the yellow bag, causing the fake briefcase to stay on the floor as the bag was lifted up. At the same time, Darcy had pressed the button on the chair, allowing him to slide the cuffs off the oak, tuck them into the case handle, and replace them with the dummy ones. Quick as a flash, pretending to struggle for appearances, Caroline covered the real case with the red, doctored bag, making sure to hold on tightly to it at the top, pinching the case in place.

They did this in less than four seconds.

They walked out the room, in possession of the keys to Rosings Park.

* * *

They moved clinically as they entered the room a few floors down, had been careful to exit the penthouse from the hidden fire escape so no-one would see them. Not a word was said as the briefcase was placed in front of Richard, who opened it up quickly and took out the laptop. He got to work as Darcy exited back to the game and Caroline went to clean herself up for the rest of the party. Richard tapped away and away, he didn't even let out a hint of triumph when he was in. He just got on with it, copying all files to an external hard drive and then onto a hidden cloud in the depths of the internet. It took him ten minutes.

"You ready, Louisa?"

Louisa nodded, performing the same ritual as Caroline, weighing herself down with bags. Richard placed the laptop carefully back into the case and placed it into the same bag it had came to him in, handing it off to Louisa.

On it went.

"Took me a bloody age to park the car," Louisa said, as she entered the poker room. "Sorry to interrupt but I need the safe key from my husband here."

Hurst grunted, and purposefully threw his key across the table. As anyone would, Louisa dropped the bags in anticipation of the catch, but again this had been done a thousand times. The bags fell back into place. Darcy crouched down to help, this time releasing the fake cuffs from the chair replacing them with the originals, as Louisa released the false bottom and the case was returned to it's original position. Did the same as Caroline, picking up the dummy case and leaving no trace that anything had happened.

* * *

Richard was leaning back on his chair, when his phone began to ring, anonymous number, but he knew it was Darcy. Two rings, then cut. The signal.

He allowed himself one small smile.

There was still a long way to go.

But they were done with London.

Mind you, all that for a fucking laptop.

* * *

 **AN. So there's the start. I think it kind of makes sense haha. I know it's on the long side, but I couldn't find a natural place to break it up. Part Three will be at Rosings, where it all goes wrong...  
**


	18. The Long Con (Part Three)

_The Desert Hills Motel, Las Vegas, USA, Two Weeks Ago…._

Darcy pulled the car into a fast food restaurant car park opposite the motel. He made no move to get out however. Checked 360 around him, careful to take note of every car, every number plate, every person, every building around him. He spotted the shadow of a figure in a car parked around fifty yards behind him. Tensed up slightly and waited. After five minutes however, the car pulled away, the occupant still chatting on their phone as they sped past him. He double checked again, but saw nothing out of the ordinary. Got out the car and hurried quickly across the way to the motel, confident he was not being watched, climbing the stairs to room 45 and knocking on the door, two quick knocks, pause, then three more longer ones. The door opened quickly to reveal a furious Caroline. He quickly pushed past her and shut the door behind him.

"Welcome to Vegas." he smirked, knowing it would wind Caro up a treat.

"Oh, welcome to fucking Vegas indeed!" Caroline fumed. "Tell me, how the fuck is it fair that you and Richard get to swan around at The Bellagio, whereas we have to have a twin room five miles from the strip in this absolute shit hole!"

"You know why, Caro." Darcy grinned.

"This could very well be our last two weeks as free men and women, and you put me here? Here?" she continued. "They have rats, Will! Fucking rats!"

"It's only for a couple of weeks." Darcy held his hands up.

"A couple of weeks….." Caroline trailed off.

"Look, you are not here, ok?" Darcy explained patiently. "We cannot risk anyone seeing you. Catherine knows people in every casino and every decent hotel in this city, if you turn up then it'll get back to her. She cannot know you're here. Added to that, this whole Charlotte Lucas situation as well. If she sees you, then Catherine will also find out. No, you have to stay under the radar. That means you do not leave this motel unless necessary, and if you do, make sure to disguise yourself."

"Two fucking weeks. Jesus, prison is going to seem like a holiday compared to this. At least they've got showers that work."

"We're not going to prison." Darcy said, firmly.

"Of course not." Caroline snorted under her breath.

Darcy decided to ignore it. They weren't going to prison. They weren't going to prison….

Probably.

"Charlie, how are you?" Darcy asked cautiously, directing his attention to the bed where his friend was lying face up with his eyes staring at the ceiling.

"Fine, old boy." Charlie nodded unconvincingly, not making eye contact.

This was the first time Darcy had seen his friends in a couple of months, and he was worried. Charlie was thinner, his cheeks were drawn in slightly, the eyes had lost the sparkle and had dark rings around them. He'd taken it harder than Darcy had ever thought he would. They had sat down in Manchester, all four of them, a week after they had made their escape from London, and hit Charlie with all of it. Their concerns about Jane Bennet and her family, the photos showing her with the 'police', the fact that they thought she was running a game on him. Charlie had resisted for a long time, Darcy had had to go to even further extremes, claming that this Detective Inspector Jane was talking to was part of the Interpol squad that had almost caught them one year ago. Of course, it was all lies. And eventually, they had worn him down, planted just enough seeds of doubt to persuade him to never see her again. Darcy hadn't expected to feel as guilty as he did, he hadn't expected to watch his friend completely crumble, the usually cheery smile replaced by a hollowness.

He'd done the right thing hadn't he?

Yes, he assured himself. He was saving Charlie from further pain down the line. And also, it wasn't just about him. Richard and Caroline did not deserve to have this hanging over them, the threat of exposure, the threat of prison, just because Charlie had stupidly fallen in love. No, he had done the right thing.

Unless he hadn't.

"Good to hear it. How was the flight?"

"Oh, great, so nice to be back in economy as well." Caroline said, sarcastically.

"Don't worry, Caro, you'll be sipping cocktails in the Swiss Alps this time next month."

"Or being felt up by some butch, tattooed, husband killer in the shower block….."

Darcy laughed loudly, pleased to be back in her company. He loved Richard like a brother, and was closer to him than anyone, but after a solid two months in the mans company, it was nice to see someone else. He didn't have many friends, shit, outside of these three he didn't have any really, so to see her again was good, despite her attitude. He had decided to be more like Richard when it came to her, find the funny side of what she was saying. She did have a dry wit that could make him roar with laughter at times, and he decided to embrace this side of her, as opposed to the snobbery.

"Well, I just wanted to check you were settling in. It starts tonight, me and Richard have a dinner set up with Catherine and Anne."

"I'm starting to seriously question the hierarchy in this crew," Caroline muttered. "You and Richard with your dinner parties, me and Charlie with the fucking rats and Burger King."

Again, Darcy laughed, giving them both a nod and exiting the room, moving back to his car and driving off. It begins tonight, the score of his life. He was going to take back what was his, and he was going to do it in style.

He couldn't have imagined that things were about to go so remarkably wrong.

* * *

 _The Penthouse, Rosings Park, Las Vegas USA, A Few Hours Later…._

"You ready?"

"I think so."

"Let's….."

Richard was interrupted by Darcy's phone going off. Only four people in the world had this number and one of them was next to him. Looked at the screen. Withheld number.

Georgiana.

"I have to take this." Darcy said shortly.

"Really, Will? Right now?"

"Yes. Go on in, I'll be right behind you."

"Fine."

* * *

"Fucking hell! Fucking vines and fucking plants all over the fucking place!" Richard grumbled loudly as he struggled with the door.

"Fuck, fuck!" he cried as he almost toppled straight through it. Straightened up to see five pairs of eyes stating at him. Catherine and Anne, good, Billy Collins and Charlotte Lucas, not ideal but fine, and then…..

Oh shit.

What the hell was she doing here?

He was careful to mask his surprise, flitting his eyes over them without lingering at all. Pretending to seek something else out. But his mind was whirring at one hundred miles an hour. What the hell was going on? Why the fuck was Elizabeth Bennet sat in the Rosings Penthouse? He put his hand in his pocket, casually striding over to the drinks cabinet, chatting as he went. Made sure he was being himself, making inappropriate jokes and giving the air of total confidence. His fingers found his phone in his pocket and he began to text Darcy. All good grifters should know how to pocket dial or text, it was amazing how useful it was. Darcy had to be warned, Charlie and Caro had to be warned. This was bad, a potential disaster.

Finally, job done, he turned to the surprise guest and gave her a broad smile. She was pretty. Much better in the flesh than in the photographs. It was eyes that were the main draw, as well as the enigmatic smirk and teasing manner as she introduced herself. He could see why Darcy liked her….

"Richard Fitzwilliam," he spread his arms wide in introduction. "Long con artist, fixer, gambler, international lover and playboy, and finally, 2002 Edinburgh inter schools triple jump champion!"

* * *

"I'll be there, Georgie, alright? …. Yes, I know I've said that before, but this time I mean it!…. I'm sorry I haven't been up to see you as much as usual, but I've been working… No, of course you're more important than work but ….. I'm trying ok? I'm fucking trying to get it all back for us!…. What do you mean, you don't care? Georgie? Georgiana!"

She'd hung up. He almost threw the phone against the wall in frustration. He didn't need this right now. He didn't need to be reminded of what an awful brother and all round human being he was at this moment. He needed focus and clarity, needed to be ready. His phone buzzed against his hand and he rushed to look at it, hoping against hope it was Georgiana calling back.

A text from Richard?

Opened it up and his heart sped up before dropping down to his shoes.

 _Lzzy Bnnts hre_.

What the fuck?

He quickly dialled Caro's number.

"Caro. Do not leave your motel. We have a problem."

* * *

 _Las Vegas, Nevada, USA, A Few Hours Later…._

"I mean, what if….."

"Shut up and drive, Richard. I need to think."

If there was one thing he'd learnt in this game, it was not to trust a coincidence. They happened, of course they did, but they could never be dismissed. They had to be thoroughly checked, investigated, nothing left to chance. And this one? Elizabeth Bennet being here? It was too suspicious. The Charlotte Lucas thing had surprised them, but it had been an easy enough work around. They had checked it was all legit and made sure that Charlie and Caro kept out of the way so she didn't see them and get suspicious. But Lizzy was a whole different thing. They'd played her for God sake, worse, they'd played her sister. The honey trap was never a nice thing to do to someone and what if they'd found out, somehow worked it all out? She'd want revenge, no doubt. So was this what she was here for? Had he underestimated her? Surely not, she was a short con player with no connections, she was not capable of pulling something as big as this off. And at the danger of sounding arrogant, he was Will Darcy. Him, Richard, Charlie and Caro were the best.

God he was tired.

Tired of always having to think three steps ahead, tired of never being able to live in the moment, tired of who he was, the responsibilities he had, the responsibilities he shirked, the constant act that was his life. When he began to think along these lines, he always came back to the same question. Who was he? Who was Will Darcy? Truth was, he couldn't answer that question anymore. How scary was that? How could you not know who you were? It had all taken its toll. What he did was a mind fuck of a job. To live as a character, sometimes for months at a time, to make it so believable that you got lost in it. That was what being a con man was. And then the score was over, and you were supposed to just go back to the real you. Well, what was the real you anymore? Was Will Darcy Picasso? Was he the boy who'd been so determined to self destruct? Was he the cold robot with no personality? Was he something else entirely?

Shut his eyes. He was tired.

* * *

 _Somewhere in the Mojave Desert, Nevada, USA, A Few Hours Later….._

He was woken by Richard shaking him.

"We're here."

Darcy rubbed the sleep from his eyes and glanced at the clock. 3am.

Stepped out of the car slowly. Looked around to see nothing but sand as far as they eye could see. It was a dark night, so vision was limited anyway. The slam of the car door sounded foreign against the silence. There was something unsettling about it. The stillness and the quiet were his usual go to, but this place was different. Thought he could hear the ghosts on the wind, those who had never made it out of the desert, who had been taken here to die.

The night was pierced my two specs of the light on the horizon, moving slowly towards them. Charlie and Caroline were here.

"Are you going to tell him?" Richard asked quietly.

"No." Darcy replied. "Not yet."

They watched in silence as the car drew closer, Darcy getting lost in his thoughts again, until the siblings finally emerged from the night.

"Ok, how bad is it?" were Caroline's first words.

"I don't know yet." Darcy sighed.

"Spit it out, Darcy." Charlie piped up, his face illuminated by the click of a lighter.

"Since when were you smoking again?" Darcy narrowed his eyes.

"Oh, you know, since I walked away from the woman I loved." Charlie shrugged, his voice bitter and resentful, a stream of smoke escaping from his lips.

Darcy shared an uneasy glance with Caro.

"It was your decision, Charlie," he said, firmly, doing everything he could to stop the voice screaming 'liar' in his head. "We didn't force you into it. We gave you our opinion and that's it."

"I know," Charlie sighed. "I'm sorry, Will ok? It's just been harder than I thought. I just keep _seeing_ her in my head. Keeps popping up, just as I think I've managed to forget…."

"You'll be fine, Charlie," Caroline soothed, clutching his hand. "It'll fade, it always does."

"Maybe." he shrugged, unconvinced.

"Anyway, this problem? Must be bad if you've dragged us to the emergency point…"

"Lizzy Bennet's here." Richard burst out, unable to contain it.

His words had differing effects on the siblings. Caroline's eyes opened wide, a swear word escaping her lips, disappearing onto the wind, her body language screaming it though. Charlie on the other hand, looked almost hopeful.

For fuck sake Charlie.

"But it's just a coincidence right?" Caroline managed to recover quickly. "It has to be! Charlotte Lucas is her friend, she's visiting her, yeah?"

"That is what she says, yes." Darcy nodded.

"You don't think there's more to it, do you?" Charlie spoke up. "Surely she hasn't been running a game on us this whole time…."

"Don't be ridiculous," Caroline snapped. "It's not possible. I mean, come on! The _Bennets_? They're a bunch of small timers, short con players. No way they could get the jump on us."

"Lizzy Bennet's been working with Cyclops the last few months," Richard revealed. "He says she's good, sharp, a natural grifter, wants to be the best. We shouldn't underestimate her…."

"Caroline's right, there's no way," Darcy cut in, dismissing his cousin. "She may well be all those things, Richard, but she's still a cheechako. We're better. Besides, she doesn't have the resources for something like this. And this has been beyond secret, the only people who know the whole thing are standing right here….."

Darcy trailed off, a sudden thought penetrating his mind. Surely he hadn't? Richard and Caroline seemed to have the same thought, and all of their eyes turned to Charlie.

"Please tell me you didn't?" Caroline whispered, her voice conveying the anger.

"What?" Charlie looked at them confused. "Why are you…."

The he realised what they were implying.

"No!" he exploded. "No, I fucking didn't! I chose you over her, you know that!"

"Maybe you let something slip by accident." Richard said, coldly.

"I can't believe this!" Charlie threw his hands up. "Do you have any idea the shit I've gone through for you three? I walked away from her, despite every part of me screaming in protest. I listened to you, and I chose you! And now you're accusing me…"

"No-one is accusing you of anything, Charlie." Darcy attempted to backtrack. Charlie was telling the truth, no doubt.

"Well, it fucking sounds like you are!"

"We believe you, right everyone?" Darcy said, firmly, eyes on his friends, who muttered affirmatives sheepishly back.

"I can't believe you'd even think it." Charlie fumed.

"You haven't exactly been the most reliable in this score." Richard said, snidely.

"Don't fucking push me, Richard!" Charlie snarled, taking a few paces towards The Colonel, who stood his ground.

"ENOUGH!" Darcy shouted.

All fell silent. Darcy pinched the bridge of his nose. What had he done? Just look at them. His friends, his crew, at each others throats, mistrusting each other, mistrusting themselves. This score would be the death of them. He had to stop it. He just had to, for the sake of his friends.

"We're pulling out."

They were too shocked to speak, until Charlie stepped forward angrily.

"No, we're fucking not!" he almost screamed. "After all this, you expect us to just stop? After everything that's happened? My fucking heart gets broken, and it's all for nothing? No way, not a chance, you are not doing that!"

"I agree with my brother." Caroline said after a while.

"Me too." Richard nodded.

"Look at us!" Darcy raised his voice. "Arguing and shouting, this isn't who we are! It's always been us against everybody else, and this score has turned that inward! I do not want to lose you over this, I will not lose you!"

He span away from them, kicking the sand around him in childish anger. How had it all gone so wrong?

"We carry on," Charlie's voice drifted across to him. It was a voice of authority that he had rarely heard. "I'll hear no more of it. If you quit, then we'll carry it on anyway, so stop fucking whining."

"Are you sure?" Darcy asked, his back still to them all.

"Yes."

Darcy tipped his head back at shut his eyes. This was it now, the last chance to walk away was gone. From now on they had to be perfect, they had to play everything out to the end. No slip ups, no doubts, just grifting as it had never been done before.

"Ok…." he sighed, taking another brief moment.

He turned round to face them.

"Ok, here's what's going to happen. Charlie, Caro, I want you to reach out to all our contacts in England. Find out who's new on the block and running scams, find out if the Bennet's or Charlotte Lucas are in any way involved. Double and triple check those backgrounds. Drive to Boulder tonight, there's less chance you'll be spotted there. Richard, we need a bug in her hotel room. Tomorrow, turn up there unannounced. I want listening devices, cameras if you can manage it. We are going to know what she eats, drinks, who she fucks, all of it. Nothing left to chance. Then, when we've eliminated it all, we finish this. We take Catherine down, once and for all. Get to it."

They nodded. Nothing more needed to be said.

* * *

 _Room 2004, Rosings Park, Las Vegas, USA, The Next Day._

Richard Fitzwilliam paused at the door. He wasn't nervous, he'd done this sort of thing countless times. No, he was more curious. Despite his words last night, he was sure that Lizzy Bennet was just here by coincidence, there was no other logical explanation. No, he was curious because of the woman herself, the woman who had caught the great Will Darcy's eye. It was obvious he liked her. Darcy probably thought he was being subtle, but he was constantly staring at her, even voluntarily entering conversations with her, something which was remarkably out of character. Richard had got a glimpse of what was special about her last night, but it still didn't make much sense to him. Sure she was good looking, sure she was funny, sure she was different to most other girls, but she wasn't really who he expected Darcy to fall for. In fact, he had pretty much given up on his cousin ever finding someone. He'd never pressed it though, it was Darcy's business. And besides, with what they did, it was almost impossible to have any kind of relationship, that's why he himself preferred short term options.

 _Knock, knock, knock…_

The door opened to reveal a bleary eyed Lizzy Bennet.

"Lizzy! May I come in?"

He pushed past her, not waiting for a response, eyes scanning the room straight away to look for possible concealment points. He had three pinhole mikes in his pocket as well as three cameras. The cameras he would probably not bother with, they were too risky and would take too much effort to get into a decent enough position. No, he'd concentrate on the mikes first. But he could feel her eyes on him the whole time, and as he turned to her, he caught the slight suspicion on her face before it was expertly masked.

Interesting.

He carried on, busying himself with the coffee pot. The way she made her way over to the kitchen and settled herself at the breakfast bar told him that this was where she sat most of the time. He needed a mike in the kitchen then. Kept the conversation going, something about sleeping with her (or not apparently), as his mind turned. Where to put it? Under the sink? No, too much interference. The fridge? The same. Was careful to keep his eyes on Lizzy the whole time, to appear fully engaged in the conversation. The take out boxes? No, this was a five star hotel, diamond class, rubbish would be taken away.

"Sorry, I just didn't sleep well last night." she was saying.

"Anything troubling you?"

He caught it. That slight slip in the mask. Yes, she was hiding something, she was suspicious of him. But that didn't mean anything, not yet.

He continued, attempting to put her at ease. This was one of his strong points, he could charm most people, he was pretty much the opposite of the stereotypical computer nerd. It certainly helped when he liked the other person. And he did like Lizzy Bennet, he realised. But he had a job to do.

Glanced back at the take out boxes again and had a brainwave. So, these two didn't like to cook. Ok then, the pans. He carefully glanced at them as he continued to speak. Forget the frying pan, people who hated cooking loved to fry things and call it cooking. The heavy based ones were more promising, and he spied the rubber lid on one of them. But he needed to be alone, needed five minutes….

"You wanna get some lunch?"

"Sure," Lizzy replied. "Just let me get changed."

She finished her coffee and walked back to her room, only looking back once. He smiled at her. She disappeared and he heard the bedroom door close.

Five, four, three, two, one.

He moved quick as a panther. Lifted the pan from the shelf and began to work the rubber off. It took longer than he was anticipating, but he had soon removed it. Slipped the tiny mike into it and replaced it on the now bare metal handle. Looked at his handiwork. It would do. A tiny little bit stretching the rubber out, but no-one would notice. Put it back where he had found it and moved quickly to the living area. He was not going to bother even trying with the bedroom. If Darcy insisted, he could sneak in when she was out, but two would probably suffice. Scores were not planned in bedrooms. The Living Room was easier, open up a cushion, little cut in the filling, shove the mike in, zip back up and sorted. Straightened up and moved back to the kitchen.

When Lizzy Bennet came back out, he was sipping casually on his second cup of coffee, exactly where she had left him.

* * *

 _Roxy's Diner, The Strip, Las Vegas, USA, Two Hours Later…._

"She knows something."

"Shit."

"Shit indeed. I need a cigarette."

They moved to a table outside with their coffees, careful to pick one that was in the middle of the throng. It was more suspicious if you were off to one side all alone. Darcy lit his cigarette, ignoring the tutting from a middle aged woman near them. He had other concerns.

"What do you think?" he asked Richard.

"I agree, she knows something. Or she thinks she does."

"What do you mean?"

"She's suspicious," Richard began slowly. "But I don't think it goes past that yet. She's not running a score, Darcy, that much is obvious. No, I think she's on her way to working out what we're doing. But she'll be too late if we do our jobs."

"Maybe. I agree with Cyclops, she's smart," Darcy praised, an admiration in his eyes. Richard held back a smirk. "She picked something up at the Poker game, I know that much. Collins was going to lose too quickly, I had to keep him in, so I folded when he was obviously bluffing. I thought I'd got away with it, but maybe not….."

"She can't have put it all together though."

"What about Wickham?" Darcy asked. "She went out with him a couple of times and you know how he likes to sing. I have no doubt he told her his version of our story. He could have mentioned Catherine….."

"Even if he did, it would be bloody hard to come up with the right conclusion from just that. It's a doubt, a shadow in her mind. We need to sit tight and play it. See what Charlie and Caro come up with…."

"Nothing so far, I just spoke to Charlie. They haven't slept yet and nothing that's come up has been a red flag. No mention of the Bennet's anywhere at all really, not from anyone who matters."

"Good," Richard nodded. "We need to focus on the real goal now. Give Charlie and Caro another day on it, and then we crack on."

"Keep her close though," Darcy said quickly. "Be nice to her, invite her out…"

"Any reason?" Richard couldn't hold back the smirk any longer.

"Too make sure she doesn't get anymore suspicious than she already is. Become her friend, just be yourself, she'll like you."

Darcy knew he hadn't kept the bitterness out of his tone. That was confirmed when he saw Richard's grin.

"Do you like her, Will?"

Darcy paused, unsure over how to respond. Settled for noncommittal.

"Whether I do or not, it doesn't matter."

* * *

 _XS Las Vegas, Las Vegas, USA, Yesterday….._

He had to get Richard out of there. Tomorrow, they would play the biggest score of their lives, and Richard had to go and get battered didn't he? Already angry at his cousin's flirting with Lizzy, the image of him with his arm around her waist seared into his mind, he grew more annoyed as Richard began to apologise for something. Surely he wasn't about to blow it now, right at the last? Charlie and Caro's enquiries had turned up nothing, and Richard's surveillance had turned up even less. Lizzy Bennet had no idea what was going on. So he had to put a stop to it and draw the evening to a close, before Richard managed to undo all their work.

It felt right, her arm in his. Ok, so she was fucking smashed, as drunk as he used to get on a daily basis when he was younger. He didn't drink much anymore, he'd have a beer every now and then, but he didn't ever let himself go past three. He'd seen what happened when he did, and he was keen to never let it happen again. These days, his only vice was the cigarettes, and the whole conning people out of their money he supposed. Lizzy leant in to him as he guided her out the club and he felt his heart swell. Shit, this was bad. How had he let it get this far? When he had first met her, he had been attracted to her, but it was tempered by the fact that he wasn't entirely sure if he actually _liked_ her. He had found her to be too arrogant with not much to back it up, too judgemental and a little bitter. But now, those opinions had been changed. Whereas he had once seen a cocky, brash woman, he now saw a confident one, someone who was unwilling to settle in life. She reminded him of his friends, particularly of Caro, although both would undoubtedly balk at the comparison. The Caro of years gone by, the 'black woman in a white mans game', the woman who wasn't content to just be a footnote. But Lizzy was more than that too. He couldn't really explain it. He'd never felt guilty about his scores before, and he knew he shouldn't feel bad about this one. Lizzy and Jane Bennet were grifters, they took money from people, and they were less scrupulous about it than he was. They emptied wage packets on Friday night, they played the Badger on unsuspecting, unhappy men. How was that different to what Charlie had done to Jane? What they had done to them? He shouldn't feel guilty, but he did.

She touched his face as she sat in the taxi, her big eyes looking up at him with a tenderness he thought he'd never see in them. Not directed towards him. His breath hitched, his heart jumped. Maybe, just maybe…..

"What is it?" she asked him, her voice melodic despite the slight slur. She was beautiful.

"I'm sor…..," he stopped himself. He couldn't. Whatever he felt, he couldn't. He was doing this for his sister, nothing could get in the way of that. "Nothing."

He shut the door of the taxi and watched as it disappeared. Brought a cigarette to his lips and sparked up, letting a thin stream of smoke into the air.

Regret and resolve.

Tomorrow, it all ends. Tomorrow it all begins. Tomorrow, this phase in his life, this awful, misjudged existence, would come to it's conclusion. Ten years of it.

Ten years.

One day to go.

* * *

 _Room 1176, Rosings Park, Las Vegas, USA, One Hour Ago….._

Caroline rushed into the room, her blonde wig and sunglasses making her almost unrecognisable.

"Is it done?" Darcy asked.

"It's done," she affirmed. "That's the last of them. This better work, William…."

"When have I ever let you down?" he looked her in the eye, deadly serious.

"Never. Let's not make tonight the first time."

He nodded, understanding the tension. This was beyond risky. It was good to go, it was ready, but it was in no way a sure thing. Anything and everything could go wrong, and they could do little to control it. They had to rely on it now, had to rely on the plan, a plan that was based entirely on what they thought Catherine would do. Darcy liked to think that he knew her as well as anyone, liked to think that he could work out her every move before she played it, but the doubts were there. This was no ordinary mark. They were conning what most people would consider the unconnable mark, someone clued up and ruthless, someone who prided themselves on their knowledge. Catherine had not got here by accident. She was shrewder than anyone alive.

They were sat in a hotel room in Rosings, a rare empty suite that they had broke their way into. They only needed it for a couple of hours. Caroline shimmied out of her dress and into her housemaids uniform. Darcy, Richard and Charlie were dressed similarly in their butlers outfits. If anyone came poking around, unlikely as it was, their disguise would buy them enough time to get out. But it wouldn't come to that, they would be left alone.

Richard was sat in front of a vast array of computer screens, snuck in through the employees entrance three days ago and hidden. They were wired into various computer hacking software and Rosings CCTV, through a system that Darcy couldn't even begin to explain. Richard was a genius. Behind the easy smile, the womanising, the copious alcohol consumption, he was simply the best fixer to ever play the game.

He looked at his friends, and suddenly felt the urge to say something.

"I'm not going to ask you if you know what to do, it would be patronising and completely unnecessary," he began softly. "You are the best grifters in the world and you are the best friends I have ever had. You didn't need to do this, most would have laughed me out the room. But you three didn't. That means everything to me. And I'm sorry if I've been short with you this last year. You do not deserve that. Everything we have done together, it has all led to this remarkably selfish act on my part, and to have you by my side despite it all is an absolute fucking blessing. I love you all, and one day I will repay this favour. Wherever, whenever, I will be there ok? Retirement or not. Thank you, that's all I have to say."

Charlie smiled at him, Caro nodded, her eyes betraying the warmth. Richard laughed at him of course.

"Fucking hell, Darcy, I haven't heard such sentimental shite since last years Oscar speeches….."

Darcy laughed and clapped his cousin on the back. He expected nothing less.

"Let's go."

* * *

 _Room 1176, Rosings Park, Las Vegas, USA, Fifteen Minutes Ago….._

"We're on," Richard broke the silence for the first time since Darcy's speech, causing the others to spring up. "Slots, machine number 221 is a go, paying out $67,000 now."

Darcy looked at the monitor and saw the woman who had won, the look of elation, of surprise.

"Go! Well done, Richard, good start," Darcy nodded. "Where's Catherine?"

"Roulette Wheel 19, talking to one Lizzy Bennet…"

Darcy put her out of his mind. No distractions, this was it.

"Ok, let's put it closer to home. Roulette Wheel 20, do your stuff."

They waited and watched, Richard tapping away at his computer. Watched the crowd gathered around the wheel, watched the spin, watched the shout of triumph from a sweaty man in an awful suit…..

"Yes!" Charlie hissed. "She's good…"

"Don't get ahead of yourself Charlie, still a long way to go. Rich, payout?"

"Half a million."

"Better than we could have hoped for," Darcy nodded. "Again, where are we going next?"

"Blackjack," Richard said, his eyes flicking from screen to screen furiously. "Table 3."

"You hear that?"

"Ok then, Blackjack," Richard said, staring at his monitors. "Giving the signal now…"

They watched, the anticipation and adrenaline coursing through them.

"Make the call, Charlie." Darcy ordered.

Charlie took the offered phone from Richard's hand, it had been specially modified so it couldn't be traced back to them, to the location. It aslo had voice modification on it, making Charlie sound like Darth Vader. One of Richard's nerd jokes. Charlie pressed speed dial one and waited as it rang.

Darcy could barely bring himself to watch.

"Hello, is that the floor manager?" Charlie asked jovially as the line was evidently picked up. "I'd like to speak to Lady Catherine De Bourgh please….. Trust me, she's going to want to speak to me… Oh, you don't believe me. Ok, oh good, I can see you… Yes that's right, I see you. You're wearing a black suit with a yellow handkerchief in the top right pocket. Now, I'm sure you've already noticed that something's going on. Two big wins in two minutes? Slots and Roulette? Yeah, that was me. So I want you to look over at Blackjack table 3.… You looking? Good. Now, watch as I rob you."

"Go." Darcy hissed.

"Black fucking Jack!" Caroline whispered in excitement, as another winner was made.

"You'll see I just took you for….." Charlie looked at Richard.

"$100,000."

"$100,000," Charlie continued. "Which by my calculation puts you down $667,000 dollars right now. So, unless you want it to get much worse, I'd put Lady Catherine on right now. Yes, I thought you might. Oh no, I don't mind holding…."

Darcy smirked at the relish with which Charlie was playing this. It was good to see him back. There was nothing like a score…..

"She's on." Charlie whispered, covering the speaker with his hand.

Darcy paused for a split second. This was it.

"Do it."

"Hello, Lady Catherine!" Charlie greeted. "Who am I? I'm the one who's robbing you blind! No, stop. It's my turn to speak. So, as your floor manager has undoubtedly told you, you are already down $667,000. Not much in the grand scheme of things really is it? But you see, I've proven I've got control of everything, every system, every slot, every wheel, every table, everything. Hold on, look over at the Baccarat. Wait for it… Oh dear, another big win! Now, I could completely ruin you tonight, but you know what? I'm in a generous mood. So here's what we're going to do. I've got a friend, a friend who isn't at all happy with you. You took his casino away from him, you manipulated a boy who's parents weren't even cold in the grave, and you took everything from him. Now you're going to give it back. Yes, Will Darcy, of course ... What's stopping you from arresting everyone in here you ask? Well, firstly, good luck with that. There are by my count 22,000 people on your casino floor currently, and I can make a good deal of them rich beyond their wildest dreams before you can do anything. Controlling a crowd like that?... Ok, yes, so they won't get out with the money, that's a good point. But I don't need them to. Because this'll ruin you. Your reputation, Rosings reputation, will be in tatters when it spreads that your whole casino was rigged from the off. What will the Gambling Commission say? What will the board say? It's all about image in this city, is it not? Rosings will never recover from this embarrassment. You'll fade away like so many others have in this awful town, moeny eaten up by lawsuits and criminal investigations. But all is not lost! If you look in the bag just under the ladies chair next to you, you'll find a contract deed. Now, all you need to do is sign it, get one of your security guards to take it to the underground parking lot and place it in the red van on B1, registration 14A-345. Then, you let the van drive out. If I see a tail, and I will, if I see anything untoward, I'll flick the switch and the house comes down. Once the van is clear, I'll disappear, you have my word that I will not do anything else. So, it's your decision. You lose Pemberley, a casino with a turnover of around $4 million a year, or you lose Rosings, a casino with a turnover of $21 million. Simples, yeah?"

Darcy watched the monitor on which Richard had zoomed in on Catherine's face. She still gave nothing away. Let out a hiss of triumph as she signed…..

"Excellent!" Charlie grinned. "Glad you saw sense. It's just business isn't it? Good, now let's…."

Suddenly, the entire room went dark. The monitors went down, the lights turned off. Even from their room, they could hear the shouts of confusion from downstairs, from the casino floor.

"What's going on?" he heard Caro shout from somewhere on his left.

"They've cut the electrics!" Richard yelled, Darcy could see his dark mass moving around his equipment, frantically pulling plugs out.

"The laptop!" he shouted. "Get the laptop."

After a moment of shuffling, the room was illuminated by the blue glow.

"Lose it, all of it!" Darcy yelled, and Richard began attempting to do whatever it was he could do.

He looked at Charlie, who was holding the phone out to him, his light brown face drained of most of its colour. He took the phone with shaky hands and held it up to his ear.

"Hello, William, my dear nephew," Catherine smirked down the phone. "I think it's time we put a stop to this nonsense, is it not?"

She'd beaten him.

The door banged open and they shielded their eyes from the torches that blinded their eyes.

"SECURITY! ARMED SECURITY! DOWN ON THE GROUND!"

Will Darcy, Richard Fitzwilliam, Caroline Bouzid and Charles Bouzid knelt on the ground, arms raised above their heads, a dozen guns pointed at their chests. After all these long years, they were finally caught.

"Let's face it," Caroline sighed as the handcuffs went on. "It was always going to end like this someday..."

* * *

 **AN. Ok then. This is a little confusing probably, but it is purposefully a bit vague. The whole scam that Darcy was attempting will be explained fully in the next one and hopefully will make it all hang together. If not, then I've fucked up haha. Want to say thanks, I've got a very kind response for the last few chapters, they were actually the first I wrote for this story, although they have been changed a little since. And special thanks to the few who have reviewed pretty much every chapter, even those dodgy early ones! So yeah, thank you. If you do read this and you have time, do let me know what you think. Otherwise, I hope you enjoyed it and are looking forward to the next one.  
**


	19. Bucking the Tiger

The lights were out. Voices of panic broke out, shouts of chaos. Lizzy stayed put, still in shock. What the hell had happened? Darcy had conned them all? They were all part of some bigger plan for him to take back Pemberley? But he had failed at the last, had been outmanoeuvred by Lady Catherine, at least that's what she surmised.

"Hello, William, my dear nephew. I think it's time we put a stop to this nonsense is it not?"

Lizzy's laughter had subsided and now she was just silent. Her mind was whirring, all the pieces suddenly fitting together. She couldn't believe she hadn't seen it. Couldn't believe she hadn't been able to step back and work it all out. Before she could completely process what had just been revealed, Catherine was grabbing her by the arm.

"Come on, Miss Bennet." she said. "It's time to finish this. I want you to see it all, witness the great Picasso's downfall. Perhaps it'll discourage you from following in his footsteps."

She allowed herself to be led in the darkness for a few steps, before the lights came on. For a moment, it was chaos as people grabbed fistfuls of chips, but security soon flooded the floor, subduing the crowds. A shrill alarm sounded around the room, and the fire evacuation message rang out around the room. The crowds began to be sheparded towards the door, their brief moment of rebellion firmly put down. Catherine however was dragging her in the opposite direction. They moved quickly across the floor.

"Lady Catherine!" Billy Collins appeared sweating next to them. "What's going on?"

"Move aside, Billy, this is grown up business." Catherine pushed him aside with a force that belittled her age. Lizzy shot a glance back to Charlotte who looked just as confused as she was and sent her a wide eyed shrug. Why was she being dragged into this?

They carried on, soon coming to a security door at the back of the casino floor. Catherine was let in immediately and they began to navigate a maze of corridors all buzzing with activity. Security and floor staff, maintenance and even waiters were rushing around. Catherine ignored them all and they parted like the sea whenever she approached. Before Lizzy knew it, she was pushed through a door and stumbling into a large room that was filled with computers and people working furiously. Lizzy looked around and her eye caught the wall at the far end. It was pure glass, giving a view into another, smaller and sparse room that only contained a table and three chairs.

It was an interrogation room.

"Wait here," Catherine ordered, plonking her down on a chair in the corner. "Do not touch anything, do not speak to anyone."

She did as she was told.

"Ok then everybody," Catherine addressed the room, every single person falling immediately silent. "Good work today, you've done me proud. Now, by the time I get back, I want everyone who I haven't explicably told otherwise to not be present in here. Understand? Good."

With that, she swept from the room, followed by pretty much everyone else. Soon, only Lizzy and three others remained, two suits and a tech. None payed her any attention. That was fine, she had things to think about after all….

So, this is what had happened then, she went through in her head. Darcy had wanted to take Rosings Park for either money or for blackmail purposes to get Pemberley back. His way in had been Billy Collins and his stupid fucking laptop, she vaguely recalled that Billy was in London to oversee some security operation for Rosings. Obviously Darcy had discovered this and decided to hijack it somehow, but had needed a way to Billy when he was in London without raising any alarms. The whole story of his retirement and Charlie and Caroline's new crew had been a fabrication, designed to throw everyone off the scent. What was it he had said? Misdirection, that's what it was all based upon. Make someone look at the big show while the real stuff was going on behind them. Felt a brief flash of wonderment at the sheer effort they had gone to too achieve this. It was close to genius. However, any admiration was forgotten as she got to the part that involved her and her sister. They had needed a way to Billy, something that fit with their cover. So they had deliberately targeted the Bennet's, knowing that Billy would be around them regularly, knowing that they could be too if they stayed close. And boy had they got close.

She felt a surge of anger that threatened to engulf her. They'd fucking targeted them, worse, they'd played a fucking honey trap on her sister. Jane, the sweetest girl anyone could ever wish to know, a girl who'd been hurt before, who'd been abandoned as a child and had had no-one for the majority of her life. They'd played off her vulnerabilities all to suit their own ends. Charlie had fucking seduced her, flashed the right smiles, said all the right things, whilst all along he had been planning to drop her as soon as she served her purpose. She was disgusted by it. How dare he? How dare they? This was the lowest of the low, one of the worse things someone could do to someone. Jane had fallen in love with an act, because that's all it had been. They'd got what they needed. That Poker game. She knew it was off, the way Darcy had folded, the interruptions from Caroline and Louisa, the whole business with the laptop and the chair. They'd played a switch. They'd got what they needed and then left, the police attention a ready made excuse. Of course, those two weren't policemen, Lizzy sighed, another part falling into place. The information they got from the laptop had been enough for them to somehow hack thre security, create those big wins tonight. They'd attempted to rig an entire Vegas casino.

Attempted.

But Catherine was obviously two steps ahead of them. She'd found out somehow, had stopped them just as they thought they were going to get away. This part, she didn't know about. Had no idea what had happened, how she had done it. But she had, and now Darcy's crew had been caught in the act.

Catherine stepped back into the room, her face alight with triumph. This was probably the most excitement she'd had in years. She glanced at Lizzy before moving over to talk to the suits out of earshot. The door opened again, and Anne De Bourgh slipped in quiet as a mouse.

"Ah, Anne, here you are, good." Catherine nodded.

"What's going on, mother?" Anne asked timidly.

"I've just stopped your dear 'cousins' from stealing everything we have." Catherine grinned evilly.

"What….." Anne asked, shocked.

"No time, Anne, no time. Right, you two," she directed towards the suits. "Time to start. Bring in Will Darcy."

"You want us to press him hard?"

"Oh, no, no, no," Catherine smiled. "I'm overdue a chat with him….."

* * *

Lizzy sat in her new chair, fidgeting. Anne had beckoned her over to where she was sat, nose almost touching the glass. She had explained that it was a two way mirror, they could see into the room, but the people on the other side could not see them. She felt a buzz of adrenaline course through her for some reason. Why was she even here? Heard Anne draw a sharp breath as Will Darcy was led handcuffed into the room, Catherine waiting for him.

"William." she greeted with a nod.

"Aunt Catherine."

"I'm not your real Aunt, William, as you have made very clear to me tonight." Catherine said, lightly.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Darcy shrugged.

He was as composed as ever. Lizzy watched as he looked around the room nonchalantly, as if none of this was phasing him in the slightest. His gaze lingered on the glass, and Lizzy could have sworn that he made direct eye contact with her, even though she knew it was impossible.

"So," Catherine began, smiling at Darcy the whole time. "The great Picasso, finally in handcuffs. It would appear that I have achieved what so many others before me have failed to do. I caught you, William. I caught you."

"You put me in chains," Darcy corrected. "That is not the same as catching me."

Catherine laughed loudly, it was almost manic.

"You're done," she stated. "Admit it, you've been out played. The stories, they all got back to me, you know. All those stories about you. They said you were a genius, said you were always ahead of everyone. All just myths though in the end. I don't know, William, I expected so much more from you. I expected a challenge. But it's just as I'd suspected. Put you up against someone real, someone with half a brain, and you couldn't keep up."

Darcy said nothing, but his eyes stayed fixed on Catherine.

"I'm giving you the chance to admit it," Catherine leant in to him. "Admit what you have done now, and things will be easier. You'll marry my daughter, go back to Pemberley, continue working for me and we'll forget all about this. But you will never get it back, you understand? Not after this."

Lizzy felt Anne tense next to her, but her eyes remained on Darcy. He hadn't moved a muscle, hadn't twitched, hadn't done anything.

"Nothing?" Catherine asked. "Maybe I can change your mind. Because underneath all this marble, I know what you're thinking. 'How much as she got?' 'How much does she know?'. Well, I'll tell you all of it."

"Please, go ahead." Darcy said coldly.

"Maybe you think that you slipped up somewhere, that something in your plan threw up a red flag. But it's so much worse than that. You see, I've known about you from day one. I've known what you've always been after. At first, I even understood why you were so angry at me, why you wanted to take me down. You're so blinded by yourself, William, so blinded by that arrogance. Can't you see that you've never deserved your families legacy? Your parents died tragically, I understand. Their loss hit me just as hard as you. I loved them, they were my best friends. I made a promise to look after you. But you wouldn't listen, in all your selfishness. You left your sister at home alone whilst you went out and did your best to kill yourself. Drinking, drugs, fighting. I watched all of it, watched as you threw all the help I offered you back in my face. What else was I supposed to do? Let you destroy your families name? No, I couldn't let that happen. So I took Pemeberley from you. Be honest with yourself, William, if I hadn't, do you think it would still be standing today? What would you have done with it? Turned it into your own haven of excess, I imagine, partying with your awful new friends, whilst Georgiana cried herself to sleep upstairs."

Darcy showed no emotion whatsoever as he responded.

"You did the right thing. But then what? What happened when I cleaned myself up? You told me I had to prove myself, so I did."

"Cleaned yourself up?" Catherine scoffed. "You just got yourself caked in a different kind of dirt. You traded in your self destruction for little more than a slower demise. You became a grifter, a parasite, nothing more than a thief, someone who was unwilling to live in the real world and earn their place."

"I am not a thief." Darcy said through his teeth, the first sign of any anger let out.

"You said it yourself, all those codes and rules you live by are just to help you sleep at night. They are not reality, you're kidding yourself. You must know that. You must know that you're the lowest of the low?"

"You do not get to judge me."

"Why not?" Catherine smirked. "Who can if I can't?"

"Whatever. Can we just get on with it? Explain to me just how clever you are." Darcy bit, sarcastically.

"With pleasure. You came to me when you'd 'cleaned yourself up' as you put it. Said you were ready to take it back. I was sceptical, of course I was. So I asked you to prove yourself."

"Which I did! I turned over more money than anyone ever has at that place! More than my father, my grandfather…."

"And I was so happy," Catherine sighed. "You were turning into the young man your mother always knew you could be. But then, the whispers got back to me. I didn't believe them at first, I mean, why would you do it? Why would you become a con man? You had a home, a successful job, the future was all yours. I was planning on giving it back, as you said, you were proving yourself at Pemeberley. Then the whispers became shouts. What you, Richard and the Bouzid's were doing with your spare time. Neglecting Pemberley, however much money it was making, but worse, neglecting your sister, so you could roam around the world ripping off the rich. How selfish can one man be? And just as those shouts were becoming facts, I discovered another one of your grimy little schemes. You were bribing my staff to spy on me, funding desperate attempted robberies on my businesses, looking for any way to hurt me."

"I don't know what you're talking about." Darcy said, but even Lizzy could hear the sudden uncertainty.

"Yes you do," Catherine said, simply. "I let it slide for all these years, putting a stop to it subtly when it was in danger of getting out of hand. Because, as I said, I understood for a while. You were young, had a sense of injustice that only youth ever harness. I decided to let you get it out of your system. You'd come around eventually, that's what I told myself. But the years passed, and it was still the same. I realised last year that you were never going to stop. I decided to do something about it."

"Billy Collins….." Darcy shut his eyes and sighed, a look of defeat finally present.

"You think I'd let that imbecile handle a security overhaul for Rosings Park?" Catherine smirked. "He created PathSafe, his name looks good on the door, that's it. He's here because of his name, nothing else. The idea struck me just as your latest attempt had failed, two years ago now. It was time you were taught a lesson, time I cut my ties with you. I'd been patient enough. I put it about that Rosings Park had been robbed, made sure Richard heard about it. I knew he'd go running to you and that you'd rush through the opening, so sure of your 'genius'. I promoted Billy to Head of Security, again whispered in the right ears that he would be overseeing a security overhaul in London. He actually believed it as well! How does it feel? In the end you were no smarter than Billy Collins! I hoped against hope that you'd seen sense, but no, you fell straight for it. It was all a set up, William! I knew you'd try something big, knew you'd attempt to rig my casino. So I let you do it. I let you think that you had outsmarted me, that you held all the cards. I guessed every single move you would make, right down to blackmailing me to sign over Pemeberley to you. Then, it was just a waiting game. I didn't know when you were going to hit over the last two weeks, I couldn't risk surveillance in your rooms or anything like that. Couldn't even risk inspecting all those machines and tables you'd rigged in case word got back to you. Credit where credits due, you would undoubtedly pick up on anything like that. I'm sure you have some spies in my casino that I know nothing about. I had to catch you in the act, and I did! I let you think you were winning, let those rigged machines pay out for a while. There's the evidence. Then I cut the electrics, made sure my security team was on top of it all. This will be handled quietly by police officers I trust, word with never get back to the gaming commission. Rosings will continue on and you'll be rotting in a cell."

"Sounds like you've got it all figured out." Darcy said, emotionlessly.

"What's going to happen when I open those rigged games, William? What am I going to find? What's going to happen when my techs go through all those computers you had in room 1176? I'll tell you what, all the evidence I need. I'm going to wrap you up in a bow and drop you at the nearest police station. You'll get ten years at least for this, all of you. Such a shame, as one goes out, one goes in…."

"Do not speak about my sister!" Darcy stood up, angrily, his chair flying back.

"When does she get out? Next month? No-one to welcome her at the gates, no home to go back to. Congratulations, William, you have now managed to completely ruin her life yet again. Because I'm done with her as well. Both of you may as well be dead to me now, all because of you. The choices you've made."

"He's done for." Anne whispered sadly from next to Lizzy, suddenly bringing her round. She had been so engrossed in the back and forth, she had almost forgotten where she was.

"It would seem so." she managed to reply.

"We're on shaky legal ground though," Anne worried. "She hasn't phoned the police yet, hasn't abided by any protocols….."

"Is she serious?" Lizzy asked. "Is she going to turn him in?"

"My mother never says something she doesn't mean," Anne shrugged. "It's no less than he deserves."

"You're ok with this then?"

"No," Anne admitted. "I love him. Not like that, but you know. He's one of the only people to have ever treated me as a real person. With him, I'm not just Lady Catherine De Bourgh's strange daughter. But he decided to do this. He has to accept the consequences."

"He's scum." Lizzy nodded, venom laced through her tone.

"Perhaps." Anne conceded, before falling silent again. Lizzy turned her attention back to Catherine and Darcy. Darcy had sat back down, his head in his hands.

"No comment." he was saying.

"That's fine," Catherine barked. "Let's see if your other little friends have anything to say for themselves. One of your rules, is it not? 'Always look out for number one'? Let's see if they listened to their great leader…

* * *

Catherine swanned back into the room a few minutes later, looking younger than ever before. Lizzy could tell the adrenaline was pumping through her, could tell the vindication was so sweet for her. She plonked herself down next to Lizzy.

"Showtime, boys!" she exclaimed to the two suits who Lizzy had forgotten were even there. "Break them for me!"

"Mother," Anne piped up, timidly. "We're in dodgy territory here. You need to notify the police."

"Not until we get what we need!" Catherine waved her off. "I want this to be watertight."

"That's just it," Anne said. "Procedure's need to be followed to the letter, we don't want to give them anything they can use in court. Holding them here without telling the police is borderline illegal."

"The evidence will be too much."

"Do you want them to get off on a technicality?"

"I'm not notifying the police yet," Catherine asserted. "I want to see the whites of their eyes, I want to see all of them realise just how well I beat them. Particularly Richard. What can we do?"

"Ok, first thing is we need photographs of them, timed and dated. This'll prove that no harm came to them when they were here. Secondly, we need temporary holding forms. Casino's can hold anyone suspected of a crime on their premises as long as the police are notified immediately. We'll doctor the times and everything on them, say that we had to lock down the casino as we suspected their were more people involved. That along with our police contacts should make sure everything appears in order."

"What about them though," Lizzy butted in. "They'll tell the police and their lawyers that you questioned them before."

"As long as the paperwork's in order and the evidence is as damning as it is, then no jury will believe them. Just make sure all CCTV is wiped before we hand it over to the cops." Anne said.

"Anne, darling!" Catherine hugged her. "You truly are my daughter!"

"Thank you mother." Anne beamed, her supposed love for Darcy evaporating in an instant, Lizzy thought, wryly. It was funny, the things some people would do for a mothers approval. She'd been the same herself a few years back with Frances, until she realised it was never going to be enough. She was sure that one day Anne would come to the same conclusion.

"I'll get straight on it." Anne said breathlessly before rushing out the room.

"I'll make a De Bourgh out of her yet!" Catherine slapped Lizzy on the arm as they were left alone. "Now, let's see what Charles Bouzid has to say."

* * *

Very little as it turned out. Charlie put on the bewildered act, gave his best mid 90s Hugh Grant impersonation, the bumbling Englishman who had no idea what was going on. He attempted to charm his way around the two interrogators, who were having none of it. But Charlie wasn't put off, he kept going off on ridiculous tangents, frustrating the suits no end. He was now explaining to them just how to make the perfect Mocha….

"And then, you sprinkle a little bit of chocolate over the foam!" he was saying. "Not too much mind! We don't want it to be abrasive!"

"For the last time, Mr Bouzid, what were you doing in Rosings Park this evening?"

"Sorry, old sport, I just can't remember!" Charlie frowned with a smile. "I think it's all the cheese…"

"The cheese?" one of the suits sighed.

"Yes, you see last night I bought this massive cheese platter and it gave me the worst nightmares….."

Lizzy had to hide a laugh, but she was soon back to barely concealed rage. Her knuckles were white from clenching her fist as she was forced to look at this man. The man who had honey trapped her sister, forced her to fall in love with him, all for his game. It was sick. She was pleased to see that he didn't look particularly well, he was thin, his cheeks were hollow, his fingers were nicotine stained. Good, he deserved it. She knew she should feel more angry with Darcy probably, he had been the mastermind, and she did, but it was Charlie who had actually done it. He was a fucking prick, and Lizzy swore then and there that she'd get revenge on him one day.

Catherine sighed and rapped the glass in front impatiently. She'd obviously had enough. The suits nodded towards the glass and led Charlie out of the room.

"I'm awfully sorry I haven't been anymore help chaps, I don't know what's got into me. Forgetfulness runs in my family, I remember one time when my father took me to London Zoo and….

* * *

"Can you confirm you name please."

"Caroline Bouzid."

"Also known as Caroline Bingley?"

"Correct."

"Appears you've got yourself in quite the situation, Caroline."

"If you say so."

She was shifty, Lizzy thought. If someone was going to break, it was going to be her. From everything she'd observed of Caroline, she was the most selfish, the most likely to put her own interest above her friends, even her own brother. Of course, Lizzy knew that Caroline had played her, but she wasn't that good an actor. No, the person she met in London was real enough, that was who she was. Catherine sensed it also as she leaned forward.

"You need to start doing yourself a favour, Caroline. You've been caught, there's no getting around that. You're all going down, whatever happens. So you have to decide if it's worth it. Is it worth ruining your whole life just for that whole honour amongst thieves bullshit?"

Caroline looked around nervously.

"I can't." she said.

"Why not?"

"Do you know who he is? How powerful he is? If I speak, I'll be hounded for the rest of my life, always looking over my shoulder….."

"You mean Will Darcy? We can help you," one of the suits said kindly. "But you have to help us first."

Caroline looked up at the ceiling, before shutting her eyes tightly. Lizzy saw a tear run down one cheek…..

"This is it!" Catherine murmured, excitedly, before they were interrupted by the door opening.

"Mother, the paperwork's ready, just need your autograph." Anne bustled in.

"Not now, Anne!" Catherine shouted. "She's about to give them all up!"

"Now, mother!" Anne asserted, surprising Lizzy. She tapped twice on the glass, causing the interrogation to stop, much to everyone's annoyance. "I will not let your victory be tainted because you would not observe the correct practice!"

Catherine looked at her coldly for a minute, before breaking out into a broad smile.

"It is _our_ victory, darling!" she said, with more warmth than Lizzy thought she was capable of. "You have done me so proud tonight, Anne my dear."

"I'm glad," Anne grinned. "Now just sign on the bottom here, all four of them. This should give us everything we need. They're going down mother! All of them!"

"Yes they are." Catherine nodded as she signed off quickly, barely glancing at the forms, such was the love in her eyes for her daughter and the excitement of knowing Caroline was about to turn. It was perversely quite sweet, Lizzy thought. God, this lot were fucking dysfunctional, made the Bennet's look like the Waltons.

"Ok, I'll get these along to legal," Anne was saying. "But you need to call the police within the hour. And don't forget the CCTV in here has to go. No keeping secret copies to gloat over, it's too risky…."

"You truly are my daughter!" Catherine roared in laughter. "Such insolence, do you see, Miss Bennet? I think I have a new candidate to take over Pemberley for me…."

"We're not done yet," Anne warned, but her delight was apparent. "No mistakes."

"Don't worry, Anne. Miss Bouzid is about to give it all up."

"That'll certainly make it easier in court," Anne nodded. "Ok, I'll run these down to legal."

Anne exited, rapping on the glass twice more before she left, allowing the suits to continue.

"So as we were saying, Caroline, It's time to help yourself."

"Ok," Caroline put her head in her hands, looking older than she had ever done before. That perfect face was now a mess of tear tracts and worry lines. "But you need to protect me! Do not underestimate what that man is capable of."

"We understand. Start from the beginning…"

"You've caught me, you've worked it all out." she cried.

"What have we worked out?"

Caroline's head was still in her hands, shielding her face from everyone as she muttered something so softly that no-one could catch.

"Can you repeat that please, Caroline."

Lizzy and Catherine leaned so far forward, their noses were touching the glass.

Face still hidden, Caroline spoke up, this time her voice as clear as day.

"I'm Becky with the good hair."

There was a beat of silence.

"Excuse me?" one of the suits asked, confused.

Caroline looked up at them, the tears completely gone, the shaking mess suddenly as composed as could be. And she was smirking.

"The Beyonce song? 'He better call Becky with the good hair'? Yeah, it's me."

"Beyonce?"

"Look, you can't tell anyone, ok?" Caroline cried dramatically, thoroughly enjoying herself. "If it gets out that I admitted it, Jay will go mad! He could kill me or something! You know he used to be a drug dealer, right?!"

"Alright, I think that's enough." one of the suits sighed.

"But please!" Caroline shouted as she was led out of the room. "I didn't mean to, it just happened! If anyone finds out, then I'm dead! I'm…"

Fair play, Lizzy thought. That was pretty funny. Glanced across at Catherine, who didn't seem to agree.

"One to go."

* * *

If the Bouzid's weren't going to talk, then Lizzy was sure that Richard Fitzwilliam wasn't. And it appeared she was correct. Richard was batting every question away with a smile and a quip, not seeming to take any of it seriously. How could they all be so calm, Lizzy wondered? They were caught bang to rights, they were going away for a long time. They had lost. But by the way they were acting, it was as if this was nothing but a minor inconvenience. It must just be bravado. She was impressed by their loyalty, however. None of them had ratted, none of them had turned on their friends. She wondered how many of her friends would do the same for her. Jane and Charlotte certainly, but the others? They probably wouldn't, she thought sadly. But would she do the same for them, for anyone who wasn't Jane and Charlotte? She didn't know.

A loud sigh from Catherine brought her back round to what was going on. The suits were now onto the clothes Richard was wearing. She'd been curious about this, they were all dressed as housekeeping.

"Why are you dressed as a butler then, Mr Fitzwilliam? Why were all of you dressed like this, if not for dishonest purposes?"

Richard laughed loudly.

"Well, it's a bit embarrassing really….."

"What do you mean?"

"It's kind of a ….. um …, let's just say it's a sexual thing." Richard grinned.

"A sexual thing?"

"Yes, me Darcy, Caro and Charlie, we're into all that. Fetishes and stuff, swapping partners, multiple partners, that kind of thing."

"Mr Fitzwilliam…."

"We decided to have a bit of fun while we were all in Vegas," Richard continued on. "The uniforms were a bit of a turn on for Caroline. She was the naughty maid…."

"You're saying that you met up in a hotel room to engage in sexual acts? With two people who are siblings?"

"Hey," Richard smirked, holding his hands up. "Whatever turns people on!"

"Stop playing games, Mr Fitzwilliam!"

"Funny, that's exactly what I said to Caroline when she brought out the whipped cream….."

"ENOUGH! What about the computers, eh? What are we going to find on them when our techs work their magic?"

Richard's mask slipped slightly for a moment, it was barely noticeable, but it had happened.

"Um….. Porn?" he replied, a glint back in his eye. "We put it on to get us in the mood."

"Twenty screens of porn?"

"It's a beautiful thing!"

The suits both stood up with a huff and looked towards the glass, one of them giving the wrap up signal. They weren't going to get anything out of these people, that much was obvious. Catherine sighed next to her, before recovering quickly, rapping on the glass to agree with their conclusion.

"No matter," she breezed. "I'll let them have their fun. It's the last bit they'll have for a long time."

Lizzy looked at her, and suddenly felt tired. She'd discovered the whole horrible truth now, the itch was scratched. Now, she didn't want to be anywhere near these people. Like at the Poker game with Darcy, she just wanted to go home. Forget about this whole mess, forget about the Bouzid's, Richard Fitzwilliam and William Darcy. She was done.

"Can I go now?" Lizzy asked.

Catherine looked at her, and she saw a hint of kindness there.

"I like you, Miss Bennet," she admitted. "Despite the arrogance and the ignorance. You're straight to the point, you're strong, you don't put up with any nonsense. I wanted you to watch this tonight because I wanted you to realise the consequences of what you do. I do not want another William Darcy in this world. You may think that it's all a game, you may even be impressed by their little performance today. I hope you realise just how pathetic it has been. Rats clinging on to their arrogance. Don't be like them, be smarter. Go and live a life, make something of yourself, but do it honestly. Work hard and get the reward. And do it on your own terms. You're capable, I can see that much."

She was probably right, Lizzy realised.

"I'll get someone to escort you out. You fly home tomorrow morning?"

"Yes."

"Excellent. Remember what I said."

Catherine moved to the door, opening it slightly, before turning back.

"Don't take this the wrong way, Elizabeth, but I hope to never see you again."

And with that, she was gone, leaving Lizzy alone in the room. She was ready to go now. She was ready to go home. They were all going to prison and that was the end of it. It was done.

She was done.

Only it turned out she wasn't…..

* * *

 **AN. Thanks for reading. Next one's the Darcy/Lizzy showdown. It won't be pretty.**


	20. Faro

"Right this way please Miss Bennet."

Lizzy was led out of the room by some faceless suit, her legs feeling heavier with every step. She was still reeling from it all, all the revelations. Her mind ached, her body was sapped of all energy. Some fucking holiday, she though wryly. Las Vegas, the grifters Mecca, where everybody like her wanted to end up eventually, had swiftly turned into a city of nightmares. All because of four people, four people who had targeted them, had seduced them with their charm and words, and had dropped them as soon as they'd got what they needed from them. Her anger was a swarm, ready to swamp them. God, Jane. How the fuck was she supposed to break this to her? She had to tell her, there was no way she could hide this from her. News of Darcy's arrest would spread to London sooner rather than later, Jane would find out eventually, work it all out by herself. She had to tell her before that happened, had to be able to have some semblance of control over the situation. This had the potential to do real, lasting damage to her already considerably damaged, no matter how well she hid it, sister.

One day, she'd make them all pay.

"Please, hurry Miss Bennet." the man was saying as they twisted and turned again through the maze.

She quickened her pace to keep up. Was it just her, or was this journey taking longer than it had before? Speaking of, she didn't recognize any of what was around her. The corridors were definitely a different shade of white as well….

She was brought back as the man in front of her suddenly stopped still, causing her to crash headfirst into his back and steady herself.

"What the fuck, man?" she rubbed her temple. "I really want to get out of here sooner rather than later, so can we please get a move on?"

The man gave her no reaction, just looked left and right. Lizzy realised that they were at a literal fork in the road. Two ways to go.

"Of course, we can leave if you want," the man said softly. "Go right, and you'll be out of here in less than a minute…."

"Ok then," Lizzy huffed. "Let's go."

She pushed past the man and began to head right down the corridor, before she was called back.

"But if you go left, there is a certain someone who would like to see you."

Stopped dead in her tracks. Somehow, she knew straight away that he was talking about William Darcy. She knew that that couldn't be the end of it, it couldn't end with her watching his downfall through a glass pane. That was never how these stories ended.

She shouldn't go, she knew that. She should carry on the way she was going, one foot in front of the other, until she eventually found her way home. Home to her family, to Jane and Lydia, to London and all it's ugly concrete, steel and gravel beauty. Get on with her life and not look back at this again. Try to forget that she had been taken in by a group of self confessed con artists, even made friends with a couple of them, and been so thoroughly out thought and manipulated. The thing she felt more than anything, even more than the anger, was the embarrassment. God, to think she'd thought she was ready for all this. She'd been harping on to all that would listen about her ambitions to play the long con, to be like Will Darcy. To the man himself as well. He must have been laughing at her the whole time, knowing that she was in his game and had no idea, just a stupid little orphan girl. It was galling and embarrassing. How did she not see it? It was all there, every piece of it, all right in front of her. And yet, she hadn't. The grift sense that she'd prided herself on had stopped functioning, hell, maybe it hadn't ever functioned as it should. Just how arrogant had she been to think she was ever ready for all this?

Steeled herself from the dark thoughts.

This wasn't how it was going to end.

"Take me to him."

* * *

Darcy was sat on a wooden chair in an otherwise completely bare room, head titled back and eyes shut. As usual when she saw him, she forgot for a brief second how much she hated him, distracted by his sheer beauty. Handsome wasn't the right word for him, no he was beautiful. And here, with his normal piercing, judgemental eyes shut, he became even more angelic. He looked younger, the crease in his brow absent, an expression of pure peace. But this man was no angel. This man was vermin, a snake, and she wasn't about to let him forget that.

He hadn't noticed her presence yet, and made no movement when she coughed. Maybe he was actually asleep. Drew closer to him, fighting the urge to give him a slap. As she approached and was looming over him, the door banged loudly behind her, causing her to whip her head round to the source of the noise. The man who had led her here was gone, leaving her alone with Will Darcy for the first time since that night at the club that she barely remembered, the night before it had all been revealed. Was that only last night? It felt like a lifetime ago. When she turned back to him she was met with open, grey eyes. Drew a sharp breath.

"You came." he murmured, eyes not leaving hers.

"Very observant of you." she sneered back, causing him to laugh.

Anger swelled up in her, but she kept it checked. He didn't have the right to laughter after what he had done to her sister.

"In my defence, it's been a long day." he smiled at her. That smile threw her off balance for a second, and she realised just how close she was to him. Took a couple of steps back and leant against the wall, clenching and unclenching her fists in an attempt to keep calm. It would do no good to lose it. But if she wasn't going to scream and hit and hurt, then why was she even here, she wondered. What was it about this man that had her like a moth to a flame. Every time she thought she'd got rid of him, both literally and figuratively in her mind, he always popped back up again, and she stood by and let it happen, even sought it out.

"This was a mistake." she muttered and started to make for the door.

"Wait!" Darcy stopped her, standing up, his tone one of desperation if her ears didn't deceive her. What was going on?

"I have nothing to say." she shrugged, her back still to him.

"But I do," Darcy began to pace. "Look, I don't know how much you've heard….."

"All of it," Lizzy turned to face him. "I've heard all of it. Catherine had me sat behind that fucking glass. I watched her beat you, _Picasso._ As she said at the time, you're done. Finished. Was it worth it? That five years at the top of the game, all that money? Worth it for the years you're going to spend locked in a cell? They'll throw the fucking book at you, you know that right?"

"I'm aware," Darcy sighed. "Ten to fifteen probably, seven to ten if I get lucky. But you never know…."

"Do you want me to pity you or something?" Lizzy asked angrily. "God, why am I even here? To say an emotional goodbye?"

"Something like that," Darcy stopped pacing and cast his eyes down. "It may well be that I am going away for a long time, and that's fine, that's what we all risk in this game. My decisions got me here. But I can't accept it without doing this first…."

"Doing what?" Lizzy sighed, sick of all the cryptic shit.

"Um… well, you see….." he stuttered. She'd never heard him stutter before. He was always so careful with his language, never slipping into slang or accent, always speaking in that perfect, clipped tone.

"Get on with it, Darcy," Lizzy demanded. "I have a plane to catch."

"It's just, I had to see you before you go. Or I go, I suppose. Whatever. Yes, I had to see you."

He raised his gaze to hers, and she saw a sudden vulnerability there.

The silence stretched on, before Will Darcy somehow managed to give her the biggest shock to date. No mean feat considering all that had happened.

"I think I'm in love with you."

* * *

Her first reaction was to laugh, and indeed she did. A short bark of disbelieving laughter. Next, came the anger. Not content with conning and manipulating her, causing her to slip back into self doubt, now he did this. One final flourish, one last humiliation. But why? What was wrong with him? Why was he messing with her like this again? It was sick, the actions of a true sociopath.

But then she looked into his eyes.

Sincerity. That's what she saw. Total and utter sincerity.

Fucking hell, he was actually serious.

Charlotte had called it.

She was too stunned to respond as Darcy followed up.

"It's been killing me," Darcy began to pace again, twitching in a way that was most unlike him, avoiding looking at her. "I had to say something, had to tell you. I couldn't go away without telling you how I feel…"

"How you feel…" Lizzy repeated, still in a state of complete shock and confusion.

"Yes. I've struggled with it for months now, I thought it would go away, in fact I actively tried to make it go away. But I couldn't. I can't stop thinking about you, despite my best efforts. I mean, you are the last person I would have expected to fall for. Indeed, I still can't get my head around it all. You're so different to any of the other women I've ever felt something for. You're rude and crass, certainly have an inflated opinion of yourself, with a family that is, to put it politely, a bit of a nightmare. For God sake, you still play the Monte! But despite it, despite me telling myself all this, telling myself that I'm being stupid to even be considering it, that I'm the worst hypocrite in the world, I can't keep it in any longer. I needed to tell you."

He stopped pacing, and finally looked at her, his grey eyes shining with hope.

He couldn't be serious. She needed to get out of there before she did something she'd regret. Or worse, something she wouldn't.

"And now you've told me. Goodbye, Darcy."

"Wait! Is that it?" he asked her incredulously. "That's all you have to say?"

"Well, obviously I'm flattered, Darcy," she spat. "Flattered that you could see past all my flaws and still deem me fit to be the object of your love."

"I didn't mean to….." he tried to defend, but Lizzy was not going to allow it. All thoughts of leaving were forgotten.

"Didn't mean to what?" she raised her voice. "Insult me and my family so thouroughly? The family who are the only reason I am standing here today, the only reason I'm not some smack addict or nameless grave in a cemetery? But, no, you're right, they _are_ a nightmare. Total fucking arseholes. I'm glad you can overlook just how awful they are. Speaks volumes for your generosity."

"Oh, come on, Lizzy!" Darcy said. "I'm not saying they're all bad, but…."

"Oh, they're not all bad!" Lizzy laughed, sarcastically. "That's good to know. Let's forget about them anyway, focus on me and my inflated ego. Pot, kettle, black? You think you're the smartest man in every room, you admitted it yourself. And rude and crass? I'll give you crass, some of us actually talk like normal fucking human beings, some of us have actually lived in the real world, suffered the real consequences of it. By no means am I trivialising your own hardships, Darcy. I'm sure there are starving kids in some African village bemoaning your fate. 'Oh no', they're saying, 'you mean the rich boy had his casino taken away? He was only allowed to manage it and had to get by on a managers salary while living in a castle rent free? Lord, how tough it must have been for him, we need to pray for his fortune to return…."

"You don't know anything about it." Darcy said, the coldness in tone coming out for the first time.

"You're right, I don't," Lizzy shrugged nastily. "From what I gather, you just did what all rich boys do, threw a tantrum, drank a lot, snorted a lot, whatever. Then once that got boring, you decided to reinvent yourself as _Picasso_ in some pathetic attempt to hide that fact that you're exactly the same as those you take money from. Anyway, I digress. So, I'm the rude one. Are you fucking kidding me? Can you actually hear yourself? You're the most rude and condescending person I have ever met, and considering you've met my 'mother' you'll know that is some achievement. You're a fucking prick, Darcy, no other way to put it! Just how on earth did you expect that decleration to go down? You're a fucking con man, Darcy, people say you can read people and judge every situation perfectly. How could you get it so totally wrong? You thought that insulting me and my family and friends would go down well?"

"I wanted to be honest!" Darcy protested, but Lizzy could hear the veiled anger and frustration. "You're right, I'm a con man, a pretty fucking good one, I could have lied to you, said all the right things, but I wanted it to be real! What's wrong with that? So I have reservations! Of course I do! You're not some innocent woman, Lizzy, you're a liar and a cheat, just like me."

"The difference is, I didn't have a choice!" Lizzy snarled.

"Everyone has a choice…."

"You think? God, you rich types. It's all so black and white for you isn't it? You chose your life, Darcy, you chose to be what you are. You could have done anything. You're no different from your dear Aunt, not really. She said the same thing to me, you know, said I should forget about the con and make it honest. How am I supposed to do that? I grew up in the system, grew up on the streets. I have no qualifications, no friends in high places, nothing to fall back on. I do what I do because it's the only thing I've ever known, the only thing I can do, and even if I wanted to change, I couldn't. Well, maybe I could, but where will that change get me? Waiting tables, serving coffee, scraping by month after month, year after year, telling myself that it will get better, telling myself the same lie until the day I die."

"I just hear excuses," Darcy waved her off, taking a step towards her. "You're a resourceful and intelligent woman, if you wanted to change, you could."

"Oh, so now I'm resourceful and intelligent," Lizzy smirked. "Tip for the future, Darcy, lead with that first when confessing your love. Leave the disparaging parts until later, or better yet, don't mention them at all."

"Would you have preferred it if I played you then? If I…."

"Played me like you already have?" Lizzy interrupted, finally getting to the crux of it. "Played me like you played my sister?"

Darcy went silent.

"Nothing to say?" Lizzy pressed, lowering her voice to a whisper and taking a step towards him, they were almost nose to nose now. She could see every line on his face, every eye lash, every fleck of spit that she had showered upon him in their heated arguments.

"You might have ruined her life, you and Charlie. You thought I'd look beyond that?"

"I think that's being a bit dramatic." Darcy replied, causing Lizzy to laugh with derision.

"Dramatic? You honey trapped her, you fucking got one of your crew to seduce her, make her love him and then disappear! All so you could get close to Billy Collins! It's sick, awful, unforgivable."

Darcy was silent for a moment, could see his mind carefully considering his next words.

"I expected you to be angry, but at least understand…." Darcy began.

"Understand?"

"Yes, understand," Darcy raised his voice. "Don't you see how hypocritical it is to call us sick and unforgivable? Don't forget who you and Jane are, what you do. You're short con players, you take money from people day in day out, and you sometimes use your looks and feminity to do it. Don't deny it. Tell me, do you work the Badger? Does Jane work the Badger?"

"That's different." Lizzy muttured, seeing exactly where he was going with this. Seeing that he was unfortunately going to have a point.

"In what way? You seduce lonely and desperate men day in day out. You don't know their backstories, you don't know why on that certain day they were tempted into it. It could've been anything. Are they necessarily bad men, all of them? Of course not. You use them, prey on their weakness and extract their money. You honey trap them. And now suddenly when the boot's on the other foot, you get all morally superior about it. If you do it to someone else, then you better be prepared for someone to do it to you. That's life, that's the game we're in, how it works."

"She loved him." Lizzy repeated, not allowing his words to get to her.

"No she didn't," Darcy opposed. "I watched them, it was clear that she was being pressured into a beneficial relationship by your mother, I was in the room when she came to Netherfield, remember? Besides, while she was maybe not indifferent to him, she was certainly not in love with him, anyone could've seen that. Both Caro and I saw that she felt a lot less for him than he did for her….."

"Than he did for her?" Lizzy pounced on the strange choice of words. "What are you talking about? He targeted her, it was all part of your score."

"It was," Darcy nodded. "And he played it perfectly. Too perfectly…."

"What do you mean?"

"He fell for her," Darcy said simply. "Told us that he wanted to pack it in, that he was going to tell her everything. I couldn't let it happen, Lizzy. We'd worked so hard for this, six months of our lives. This was my retirment, my way of getting it back. Of giving my sister a future, something to look forward to. I couldn't let him fuck that up, not for something that wasn't real."

"But it was real!" Lizzy shouted, stunned by yet another revelation. "She loved him. You think she was indifferent? You've spent, what, a few hours in her company, and you know her? She's shy, Darcy, she was embarrassed by our mother. She genuinely loved him. She cried for weeks when he left her without so much as a word. Your doing, I presume. How did you persuade him then, how did you change his mind? Why didn't he tell her everything and put an end to your petty revenge."

"I ….. um ….. I'm not particularly proud of it. I did what needed to be done." he muttured.

"Tell me!"

"I made it look like the police were coming after him. Made it look like Jane was slipping them information. Took some photos and then showed them to him. Made it clear that I didn't think she felt the same for him. Reminded him of what we've been through together, of what we owe each other. Maybe I feel a twinge of guilt, but I will not apologise for it. They'd known each other for five minutes, we'd been together for five years. That he wanted to throw that away for something so fleeting was both idiotic and a little bit insulting."

"You know, when I walked in here, I thought there's nothing he can do to make me dislike him any more. You are full of suprises, you know that?"

"I'm sorry you feel that way." Darcy said, emotionlessly.

"Yeah. You ruin lives, Darcy. You're poison. Everyone who comes into contact with you, you destroy. Let's see, your crew are behind bars, about to spend the next decade or so in prison, my sister remains heartbroken, your sister…."

"No!" Darcy shouted. "You do not get to do that. You know nothing about it so you will not take the liberty. Do not mention my sister."

"Guilty concience, Darcy?" Lizzy smiled evilly. "As you wish. And what about George Wickham? The dear old friend you ripped off and cast aside…."

"Wickham?" Darcy repeated with a look of surprise that quickly turned into rage. "Seriously? George fucking Wickham?"

"You ripped him off, took his money and robbed him of his future in this game. So this talk of great friendship and loyalty between you and Charlie rings a little false I'm afraid. If that's what you do to your friends then it's a wonder you have any left."

Darcy surprised her by smiling. But it wasn't the smile of warmth that she had seen increasingly in their acquaintence. It was cold and derisory, mocking and nasty. His beautiful face was contorted slightly, making him look both older and younger at the same time, resigned and resolved.

"So, this is what you think of me. Thank you for making it so clear. Maybe one day you will be able to see past your unbelievable hypocrisy and begin to understand why I have done what I have done. Why I do not feel guilty for it. Understand that you have very little right to throw it all back at me and call me sick and unforgivable. I may not know who I am, but at least I own _what_ I am. I do not hide from it, I do not hold other people to a different yardstick. I know that I have no right to do that. I'm a grifter, a con man, a sociopath, maybe even a psychopath. I own that. But you? You can't see past your pride and your hypocritical moral stances. You're a mess of contradictions, can't accept just what you are. Did you expect me to rejoyce at your family? At your mother? Did you expect me to flatter you with everything that is good about you? I could have done, indeed I could still, because on that subject I would have a lot to say. But you don't want to hear it. You have made up your mind. You have tried me, you have judged me, and you have sentenced me, done so with a muddied picture, ill informed stories and with clouded morals."

Lizzy realised just how close he was, just how cold his eyes were. But she wouldn't back down. She would have the last word.

"You say you love me, or you think you do," she whispered. "All you have done is prove how ridiculous that is. To be honest, Darcy, it's not even what you've done. It's who you are. From the moment I met you, I have disliked you. You are a rude, manipulative, judgemental and arrogant prick!"

"Right back at you." Darcy sneered.

"You're the last person I would ever love. Even if we were the only two people left on earth, I would spend my entire lifetime avoiding you."

Lizzy turned away and yanked open the door, her body shaking, her mind bent and exhausted.

"Enjoy prison. I hope you fucking rot. Now it's my turn to give you some advice. When you finally get out, when you're finally free, when prison has turned you into even more of a shell, when you begin to start thinking about rebuilding yourself and your life, remember to watch your fucking back. Cos me? I don't forget easily."

With that she was gone, one foot in front of the other, ready to do that until she found her way home.

* * *

 **AN. Right, here we are. Sorry for the longer than usual absence. This one was hard and I haven't got it how I would like, but it's as good as it's going to be at this point. Thanks for reading and for all those who are reviewing, it's nice to hear back from people, good and bad things. I know my grammar is not stellar, I'm not a writer really and I write how I talk, in slang and colloquialisms (ie wrong), but I will try to get better. Anyway, cheers.  
**


	21. Cool Out

Dear Elizabeth,

I have no concerns that this letter won't reach you, the person I entrusted with it doesn't make mistakes. No, the thing that concerns me is that you will rip it up straight away, and my words will be lost to the fire or the bin. You would have every right to do so. If that is what you want, then please do it now. Don't waste your time.

If you are still reading, then I thank you for it. Maybe I don't deserve it, but I'll take it. First of all, do not worry, this letter will contain none of the sentiments expressed at Rosings that you found so revolting. I have no wish to retread that ground and would like to move on as soon as possible. That means that I would like to straighten some things out, try to explain myself a bit better than I did at the time. I was emotional and tired, two states that are not conductive to a rational conversation. Also, with the uncertainty that is facing me, I perhaps acted irrationally and without thought, things I rarely do. As far as I can tell, you have levelled two main charges against me, the effects our score has had on you and your sister, and my treatment of George Wickham. I will begin with the more surprising accusation, with the man who is never far from my thoughts. My former best friend George Wickham. I do not know what he has told you about our respective pasts, both apart and together, but I can take an educated guess as it is a story that he has told others. What follows is the true account of our relationship. Of course, after all the lies I have told, you may doubt it, I would understand. But I swear on my sisters life that this is indeed what happened between us.

I will also apologise in advance if this gets overly emotional or even contradictory on occasion. George still stirs up a cocktail of emotions inside of me, and he is perhaps the most important relationship I have ever had in my life. In a way, he has shaped every incarnation of me since the day we met, and I have been many people. Some good, some bad, most somewhere in between. Anyway, I'm blabbering. I will try not to take up more of your time than is necessary, but it is a complicated story, and one that may well take a while.

I'd heard of George Wickham some time before I ever laid eyes on him. Already, at the age of 18, he had a reputation in certain circles for being quite the talent. He was one of the best short con players in South London, and was expected to go on to do great things. In my opinion, he is the most naturally gifted grifter I have ever met. He has a way with words, an easy charm, a sharp brain, and remarkable balls. Back then, I was just a naive little rich boy, a description that you may well think still fits. I'd grown up in casino's, both Pembereley and in London, and had always been fascinated by the con. I'd see these old timers around the poker table, spinning their yarns, telling their tall tales. I would sneak in to these games when I was younger just to hear the stories. My father would eventually find me and send me back upstairs, but he'd always give me a wink. He understood how fascinating it was to an impressionable boy. I was taught some tricks by the old geezers, the Monte, that kind of thing. But it was never more than a hobby. I went to school, to University, I was going to be a respectable businessman, take over the family casino when I was ready. That was my future and I was fine with that. You were right, I have been dealt a favourable hand in life, despite what happened next. I shouldn't complain. Anyways, as I was saying, I'd began to hear about George Wickham. The old timers were beginning to talk about him around the card table, a place I was now allowed to be at the age of twenty. They spoke about him with optimism, but also with caution. They said his talent was not in question, but perhaps his attitude was. He'd already done a few months inside. But a great future was predicted for him. I thought nothing of it, I was focused on University.

Then everything changed.

I was twenty one when my parents died. Car crash. My mother died instantly. My father survived, but he didn't last long without her. He made a partial recovery, was even released from hospital, but two weeks later he had a heart attack. No-one's fault, just one of those things. I've come to terms with it now, but it took a long, long time.

So, there I was. Twenty one years of age, parents gone, a confused, vulnerable and heartbroken ten year old sister to look after. I was to be her guardian now, I was to take over the business. It soon became clear that I wasn't ready. In the initial stages, the first few months, I failed abjectly at my new responsibilities. I was afraid, depressed, prone to shutting myself away for days at a time. I dropped out of University. Weeks passed and I ignored everyone. My sister, the people who worked for my father, well for me now, the few friends I had. My parents loss hit me hard, I had always been close to them. Without them, I just fell apart. It was pathetic, irresponsible, unforgivable and selfish.

The next stage of my grief, and when this whole journey began, is where George comes in. I had been coaxed out by a friend of my fathers to a casino in London, I forget which one. All night, this guy was lecturing me, telling me that it was time to man up now, that my grace period was over. I nodded along, but escaped as soon as I could, as soon as he was distracted by the pretty Russian girls at the tables. Made my way to the bar and had every intention of getting obliterated on brandy. I ordered my first one and stared into it, not paying any attention to my surroundings. I was eventually brought out of my fog by a presence next to me at the bar. A man was stood next to me, well, I say a man, but he still looked like a boy. George Wickham. George is an incredibly social person, will start a conversation with anyone if he thinks it'll be worth his time. He has a knack of making you think you're the most important person in the world, that what you're saying is one hundred times more interesting than it actually is. He attempted this with me at the bar, later on he admitted that he saw me as a potential mark and we laughed about it. But in that moment, I was in no mood, and he soon went off. I had a couple more, but the noise around me was getting louder. I looked up to see the same man, two ridiculously beautiful women on either side of him, cheering at one of the blackjack tables, face alive and joyful, everything I wasn't. I watched him for a while, and I soon realised he was running a scam, he was counting cards. It was a trick the old grifters had taught me at the casino, back in those happier days. He was pulling it off with such panache. Such ease and confidence, such arrogance. The barman caught me looking and told me the mans name was George Wickham. So this was the prodigy I'd heard about. On first impressions, he lived up to his billing. I was drawn to him immediately.

It was getting late and I was still at the bar, the casino was emptying around me. George came up again, attempting to charm his way into getting served despite the fact they had called last orders. The barman relented soon enough. It's funny, I remember so many details about that night, but I don't remember who started the conversation. Maybe it was me, I don't know. But suddenly, we were talking, and he was making me laugh, something I hadn't done in months. I remember feeling the disappointment as the two women from before came up to drag him away to do whatever they were going to do with him. But, much to my surprise, he waved them off and we sat at the bar for hours, talking and drinking until the barman finally had to kick us out. But we just went somewhere else, some dingy bar South of the river and talked more until dawn. I told him that I had seen what he was up to at the casino. He was surprised at first, but when I explained my background to him, he smiled widely and congratulated me on my grift sense. I felt pride, I wanted his approval. His story was fascinating to me, and he was generous in his responses. He's a great story teller. We finally staggered out the bar at dawn, both drunk as anything. We parted ways, he said he'd look me up at the address I'd given him of our house in London. I don't think I expected him to. But he did.

Pretty soon, we were inseparable, like brothers. I'd told him of my fascination at what he did for a living, and he offered to teach me how to grift. I should have said no, I had responsibilities, I had to clean myself up and look after my sister. But I admit that I was infatuated with him. In some ways, it was a bit like a first love I suppose, without the lust element. I realise now that I was looking for an escape, a way to distract myself from my life and my responsibilities. I knew he wasn't a particularly good person from the off, but I pushed any doubts away. It helped that Georgiana loved having him around as well. So, I agreed. He taught me everything he knew, all the short cons, all the scams and scores. We worked the streets together, me revelling in my rich kid rebellion, and George just enjoying life. We would scam our way through the day, then drink all night, chat up women, get in fights, snort whatever the new friends we made, and with George you always make new friends on a night out, offered us. In my rare sober moments, when there was no adrenaline, alcohol, sex or narcotic to distract me, I would begin to slightly question what I was doing, what we were doing. In those days, George lived harder than anyone, he partied hardier, he scammed harder, everything was turned up to eleven. That came with consequences, dangerous situations became part of our daily life. He would laugh off any concerns and I would go along with him. It was around this time Catherine took Pemeberley from me. She was right to do so, I was in no fit state to run it, and at the time I didn't really care. I was living the dream with my friend, I saw nothing past that.

It began to change soon enough, however. Once the novelty had worn off, I began realising just how many risks we were taking. George didn't care who he ripped off, and he seemed to purposefully target the most dangerous people in the city, all for the thrill of it. It's the thing about people like him, it's like a drug addict. They start off small, a spliff every now again. Then when that's not enough, they start with the pills and the powders on a Saturday night. Soon it becomes more regular and regular, but the high is never quite as good as it was that first time, so they chase for something else, something harder, something altogether more satisfying and dangerous. Before they know it, they're the thing they swore they'd never be, a crack or smack head. They're powerless to stop it. That's what George was like with grifting. He was addicted to the rush and so sure that his outrageous talent was enough. But once you start to play with the bigger boys, that alone isn't enough. You need planning, resources, a team as good as you. But George didn't have the patience for that. He'd just charge in headfirst, no thought for the consequences. I don't think he believed he'd ever lose.

One day, about a year and a half after I first met him, I woke up with an awful hangover, an extremely angry voicemail from my cousin, Richard, demanding I stop being such a cunt, his words not mine, and a sudden sense of clarity. I couldn't do it anymore. I'd alienated my sister, I was risking my life, my future. I had to sort myself out. Living that fast, that hard, it's just not sustainable. You get tired of it. I told George my decision that very same day, told him that I was going to get out, take over the family business, that I was putting the con behind me. He was angry at first, but eventually wished me well. In typical George style, he walked out of my house with five hundred quid in his pocket, willingly given by myself. I told him that I'd keep in touch, that he should come and see Georgie whenever he wanted. That was my big mistake.

Now, before we go on and his character is well and truly revealed, I will say that I do not think he started with bad intentions. Sure, I was an opportunity for him, I had money and a few connections, but I like to believe our friendship in that time was very much real. It certainly was for me. I connected with him like no other, he made me feel so alive at a time when I really needed it. Whatever has happened since then, it would be no exaggeration to say he saved my life at that point. For that I will always be very grateful, that is the reason I can never quite bring myself to hate him as thoroughly as he deserves.

Anyway, once the decision was made, it happened quickly. As you know, I went to Catherine and told her I was ready to take it back, that I was sorry for my actions and that I was going to make it right. It wasn't the fact that she told me no that got to me, no, it was the way in which she said it. Condescending, superior, doubtful, dismissive. But, hey, I probably deserved it. She told me to prove myself, told me to go back to Pemberley and run it how I saw fit, but still remain under her. I agreed reluctantly. She did the right thing, I understand that now, but at the time I was angry. But I got on with it.

Something was missing, I realised that soon enough. I was content enough, even flourishing in a business sense. After just one year I was turning over more income than Pemberley had ever seen. I won't bore you with the details of how I achieved this, but I will tell you that it isn't exactly rocket science. People want to do things that are bad for them, they want to gamble, so making a casino a success isn't all that difficult. I was bored. The casino could run without me, I didn't need to be there day to day. I began to worry for myself, because I know where boredom leads, particularly for me. Alcohol and drugs and danger. I couldn't go down that road again. I needed something to excite me, fill the gap, stop me from being so numbly normal. I realised that the thing that made me feel most alive was the con, the adrenaline you get from it, the satisfaction, the entire game. A way of living that is totally your own. And I was good at it, I knew that much. George had always been better, but there was no shame in that. When he was 19, he was better than everyone. At the short con that is. But what of the long con? We'd talked about it sometimes, but George had never had the patience or foresight to take it seriously. There was always a quick score to be done, always an itch to be scratched and a short term fix. He wasn't really built for it. But me, I had the suspicion that what made me worse than George at the short con would actually make me better than him at the long con. I'd learnt patience, I had an analytical brain, I could see beyond the present and look to the future. Looking three steps ahead, I could do that, predict what people were going to do next before they even knew it themselves. Also, although I would be remarkably unperceptive to not agree to a certain extent with what you said about it all being some rich boy rebellion, I was motivated as well by what I saw around me. The world was going to shit, the poorer were getting poorer, the richer were getting richer, our country was being run by Etonian's who were so out of touch with the ordinary people. Run by a media who were solely motivated by profits. Maybe by scamming and scheming people like that, I could actually make a difference, teach them a lesson. Could I actually do this?

I decided there was no harm in trying.

The first thing I did was get in contact with my cousin, Richard. Before all this, we weren't exactly close, he'd never approved of my friendship with George, and I thought that considering the casualness with which he abused drugs and alcohol himself, he was a bit of a hypocrite. But there was no denying he was good. A genius when it came to computers, alarms, anything electrical, he was already playing the game, doing some freelance work with mid level crews, making decent money too. I invited him to Pemeberley, and I think we were both surprised by how well we managed to get on. It pleased me no end because I was lonely. It helped that Richard is a bit like George in certain ways, he is sociable, funny, outgoing, but he has a steadiness to him that George doesn't. I've always known that I can 100% rely on Richard, rely on the fact that he knows when to draw the line. After a few days of laughing and talking, I told him what I was considering, that I wanted to play the long con. He laughed at me at first. But I brought him round, he saw how passionate I was about it, saw that I had really thought it through. We went all in together.

Soon, we had the skeleton of a crew in place. Richard had discovered the Bouzid's whilst tying up some loose ends in Manchester, and they fit in perfectly. Charlie was born to be a roper, Caro was remarkably good with numbers and her all round skills are second to none. Whilst Charlie has remained consistently the same in our acquaintance, Caro has changed. Nowadays, I find her hard work, but back when I first met her, she was a different woman, untouched by money and success, determined to succeed against the odds. So, we had our crew. However, I felt we needed one more. I could play the inside man and be the overall leader, but I was worried about overstretching myself. That's when I thought of George. It seemed like the perfect solution. I knew the potential he had, knew that he could become nigh on the perfect grifter. With the right direction and the right people around him, he could rise to the very top, give our crew the X factor if you will. And I could pay him back for all he had done for me, after all, I was in this position solely because of him. Richard cautioned against it when I mooted the idea, he said he didn't trust him. Said he had the potential to be a loose canon, said that he wasn't built to be a team player.

I ignored him. George came on board.

I should have listened.

We worked a few trial runs, and mostly everything was good. We all felt that this was the start of something special. However, from the off, there were problems. It became clear that George didn't like the fact that I was the leader, that he thought it should be a more democratic process. Unfortunately, in a long con crew, it can't really work like that. A leader is an absolute necessity, someone to tie it together and make sure everyone knows their jobs inside out. The more surprising concern was George's actual work. He was still better than almost everyone, but it seemed to me like he wasn't quite as good as he thought he was, that he was slipping a little, that he wasn't giving the required focus. I consoled myself with the fact that we were all still learning, that we would all get better, that we couldn't be expected to be perfect from the off.

The first score we played, the first long con, targeted an art dealer in Paris, a woman who had made a fortune by selling fake art to down on their luck galleries, posing as some kind of passionate charity worker who would offer priceless pieces at knock down prices. Galleries that were struggling would scrape together the money and buy them in the hope that it would attract visitors and solve their financial problems. Of course, the paintings would be exposed as fake sooner or later, and the galleries and people who worked there, people who had poured their life and soul into them, would go bankrupt and close forever, lose livelihoods. I won't go into the mechanics of the score, but suffice to say, we took her. A quarter of a million. This was a vindication of what I was trying to do, this proved that we could do this. We were thrilled, delighted, excited about the potential we were unlocking in ourselves and each other. We drank and danced in Paris in celebration, certain that things were only going to get better from here, certain that we were going to make history.

When we woke up the next morning, George was gone. So was the money.

At the start, we'd agreed that in the scores we played, we'd always split the money 15% each, with the remaining 25% going in the pot for future work. We'd all have access to the account, a show of faith in each other and a back up plan if any of us were ever in trouble and needed quick cash. However, the evening after our first score, me and Richard discussed it and agreed that we should use the money from this first score to set ourselves up as a crew, get ourselves a permanent base away from prying eyes, buy all the tech we needed outright etc etc. We put this to the others. Charlie agreed, Caro was a bit annoyed but she saw the logic, George, well, he wasn't at all happy. He shouted for a while, saying he was in this to get paid, that I was attempting to cheat him out of what was his. I was shocked by the way he turned on me so quickly, but I was not entirely surprised. Back then, I foolishly believed that our history together gave me a certain sway with him, that he felt a loyalty that went beyond money. So when I appeared to have calmed him and talked him round, I thought that was the end of it.

Of course, he emptied the bank account that evening and disappeared. I was furious, betrayed, upset, but most of all, I felt enormous guilt. I had been the one who had brought him in, despite others misgivings, I had given my friends the assurances, and I hadn't delivered. They were out of pocket, had wasted months of their lives, all for no reward. George had almost destroyed this crew before it even started. Indeed, I expected the Bouzid's to walk away, it was what I would have done in their position. I was supposed to be the leader and I had failed them. I am forever grateful that they chose to forgive, that they saw beyond it and stayed with me. The only positive to come out of it was that. I now had friends who I could rely on, who were loyal, who believed in what we were doing and believed in me enough to be able to look past this mistake. I realised that this was real friendship.

The next few years passed in a blur. We were kings of the world, becoming true greats. It may sound arrogant to you, but as I have said before, when pride is earned, it is not necessarily a flaw. And we earned it. We scammed newspaper owners, TV producers, Arabian princes, Russian oil barons, drug smugglers, arms dealers, diamond cutters, everyone who we thought deserved it. We were becoming notorious, whispered about in the grifting circles as the one of the greatest crews that had ever existed. We were, there can be no doubt. No-one in the game today can boast our track record, no-one at all. Except maybe one, the woman who delivered this letter to you incidentally. But it came at a cost to me. You see, the con is an easy thing to lose yourself in, immerse yourself completely, and it is very difficult to come out of the other side. After George's betrayal and our subsequent success, I became more and more pragmatic, cold, unfeeling, certainly a worse human being. I never allowed myself to lose my morals, that was one thing I managed to keep in check, but in terms of who I was outside of work, I definitely lost something in it all. It has become nigh on impossible for me to just be me nowadays. I don't know how to act outside a score, I don't know how to relate, I don't know how to empathise, I don't know how to just be normal. To this day, I cannot put my finger on why this is. Maybe with the years of reflection that loom ahead, it will come to me and I will be able to give a satisfactory answer to why I am who I am now. Who I am. The question that plagues me, because the truth is, I don't know. The long con took that away from me. It's a poor excuse for how I am, but it's the only one I've got.

I apologise, I have been digressing and doing exactly what I said I wouldn't do. I'm taking up more of your time than I deserve. But it feels good to write this all down, cathartic to an extent. I'm sorry you're the one who has to bear the brunt of my ramblings. Ok, so, the other thing the con was costing me was the relationship with my sister, Georgiana. I have never been the guardian she needed, I have never stepped up to the plate and delivered. The way I handled the whole thing causes me endless shame. Altogether, there is no forgiving what I have done to her, how selfish I have been, how cowardly. She looks so much like my mother. It's awful to say, but sometimes, I can hardly bear to look at her. She is a constant reminder of what I have lost, the love that has been absent from my life for years now. And whenever I think this, all it does is cause me even more pain and self hate, because she is entirely blameless. I was a man when I lost our parents, she was a little girl, a ten year old girl. What does it say about me that I couldn't find a way of compartmentalising it all and just be there for her? Take her to school, help her with her homework, blow the candles out on the birthday cake, comfort her when it all got too much. I didn't do any of that. What I did was run away, constantly on the move, constantly setting up new scores so I didn't have to face my mistakes. For those few years, I barely saw her. I missed her grow up. And I missed her spiral out of control, I left her alone in the world. That is and always will be on me. Will always be the heaviest weight on my soul, if I still have one.

We were in Rio when I got the call. The city had been awarded the Olympics for 2016 a few years previously, and the place was still awash with corrupt marks ready to be taken. It was a grifters sweet shop, we were drowning in potential scores. I hadn't seen Georgiana in around four months, a long absence even by my standards. The last time I had seen her, I had detected a slight change. She was moodier, reluctant to spend time with me, understandable of course. She was fifteen now, a teenager. But the problem was that because I had spent the last years avoiding her and my responsibilities, in my mind, she was still ten years old, still the sweet and innocent sister I once knew. Because of my cowardice, I didn't realise how much she'd grown. Then the call came, the worst moment of my life, worse than my parents death. Georgiana was in prison for armed robbery. She had gone into a fucking corner shop and pointed a gun at an innocent man. I didn't believe it at first. She was still ten years old, wasn't she? Only she wasn't.

I flew home immediately, and when I got back to Pemeberley, the whole awful tale began to emerge. She hadn't been in Scotland for months, she had disappeared down to London. So that's where I went. I saw her very briefly, saw my sister behind the glass, caged in like an animal, handcuffed to a chair. She didn't say a word to me. I spoke to all my contacts, all her friends, anyone I could. And one name kept cropping up. George Wickham.

I still to this day do not know the full story. But what I do know, and what is indisputable, is that George had been the one to physically put my sister in this position. They'd always got on well, she'd always liked him, and she reached out to him when she ran away to London. He had gambled away all the money he had taken from us in the preceding couple of years and had found himself in more and more trouble. He had debts piling up, had made enemies where he shouldn't have, he'd wasted all the potential he ever had. Now, he was nothing more than a common criminal. But he will always have his charm, and he set out to charm my sister. He took her under his wing, they began to run the streets together, much like we had done back in the day. But whereas then I had been twenty one and he had been nineteen, this time, he was twenty five and she was fifteen. Fifteen. Fifteen and all that comes with it. He began sleeping with her, made her fall in love with him. She was fifteen. I suspect that it was a ploy to eventually try to scam me out of my by then considerable fortune. But George has never been a patient man, and he was in big trouble with a card shark in the East End. He needed to pay up and fast. In his desperation, he began a spate of armed robberies, leaving behind the con and truly embracing the criminal element of himself. And one night, he took Georgiana with him. They walked into the shop, pointed the gun and then the alarms went off. Georgie froze, I've seen the CCTV. She couldn't move. Just stood there, the gun limply by her side, George attempting to push her out the door before giving up and abandoning her. There's a moment in the footage that tears my heart into pieces. She stands still for a good two minutes, just her alone in this shop. Then she takes her mask off, stares at the gun in her hand. She places it on the counter and then she sits down. She sits down and waits for the police. No tears, she just waits.

She got three years in a young offender institute.

The sentence was harsh, harsher than it should have been. She didn't co-operate, she wouldn't give George up. But even so, the gun wasn't even real as it turned out. She should have got a year, maybe two max. Again, the blame lies with me. I was becoming famous amongst law enforcement, it was becoming the ambition of every fraud investigator in the country, even the world, to be the one to catch me. I got too big, too noisy. And I was always three steps ahead of them, they could never get close, could never make anything stick. I embarrassed them time and time again. So they found another way to hurt me, through my sister. There was none of the usual bargaining, none of the usual leniency for first time minor offenders. No, they gave her everything they could get away with giving her. Even the best lawyers in the country didn't stand a chance. My sister got three years in prison because of George Wickham.

But if I'm honest with myself, she got three years in prison because of me.

So that's all of it. All of my dealings with George. I promise you it is the truth. You are one of the very few people to now know the true story, indeed only myself, Richard and George know the whole thing. I have never spread George's involvement in my sisters arrest around, even Charlie and Caro don't know, and I tell them everything. Maybe I should have, it pains me to see him walking round a free man with a smile on his face, but to expose him would be to expose my sister even more than she already has been. I can't risk that. I ask you to not repeat this to anyone and to burn this letter as soon as you are done with it. I trust you to do so.

Now, onto the other charge, that of my crews score and it's effect on your family, in particular your sister. On this subject, I have little more to say than what I did the other night. I do not believe that if you are an active grifter who plays the con, you have any right to feel aggrieved when it turns on you. Yes, we targeted you, both of you in fact. And yes, Charlie's job was to make your sister like him. We didn't know you when we planned it, just how you don't know the marks you're conning when you're on the street. People like us exist in those dark and grey areas, where right and wrong is blurred to the point that they overlap more than people would think they do. We were doing our jobs, nothing more. And in terms of me separating them, I fully admit it and I would do it again. Charlie was putting not just me, but Richard and Caroline at risk, he was being remarkable selfish in his actions. He has previous form for this also, he is generous with his affections. I did what I thought was right in service of myself and my friends. I truly am sorry for the hurt it may have caused, but I refuse to feel guilty. I'm sure you see it differently, but I have nothing more to add. I know that will displease you.

I also know that I promised at the start of this letter not to renew the sentiments I expressed last time we spoke. Well, I am going to break that promise, albeit briefly I'm afraid. Know that what I said was true, I do feel something strong for you, something that I can only assume is some form of love. I have realised that I didn't exactly express it in the right way. I was confused and vulnerable at the time and wholly misjudged it all. For that, I am sorry. I shouldn't have insulted you and your family, I shouldn't have lost my temper and acted with spite when I was rejected. My behaviour was poor to say the least. I hope I can now move on, and again I apologise for getting it all so wrong.

I sincerely hope that you choose to continue in your pursuit of the long con. The game needs talent, it needs people like you, but more importantly, the world does. The long con is ….. well, to me it has been everything. The thing that saved my life and then took it, gave me a sense of purpose, gave me friends, gave me a chance to do something if not exactly good, then at least worthwhile….. no, that's not the right word. Fuck, I don't know. See, people like Catherine, they say we're scum, say we're nothing better than common criminals. Too lazy to make something of ourselves, too ignorant to make it honest. Perhaps there is a shade of truth in that. But I can't see it like that. Catherine and her generation, my parents, your parents, they were given everything. Opportunity, social mobility, a medical and technological golden age to toy with. And what did they do with it? What will be their legacy? They'll leave behind a world of increasing poverty, of crippling debt, of war, of environmental catastrophe, of increased xenophobia and religious hate. All while that 1% gets richer and richer, destroying the lives of ordinary people as they manipulate and control them through their newspapers and television programmes, all their shiny distractions. Their misdirection's. They're laughing at everybody else, knowing they are untouchable, knowing they can do what they will with the world and die like some kind of fucking pharaoh, leaving a mess behind that is impossible to clean up. They think they can't be touched.

But they can.

We did it, me and my friends. In our own small, selfish, criminal way, we went after those people and we made them stop and think for just a second. We took their money, we refused to let ourselves be controlled by them. We did something about it. By no means am I suggesting we are saints, all of us are guilty of too many sins to name, but I am still proud of what we did.

The long con made me cold, unfeeling, a shell of what a human being should be. It has robbed me of my life, my family, almost everything. But, every night when the lights go out, I remind myself that I took a stand, however small and self serving, against a world that has spat at our generations feet and given us a broom to clean it up. I did that and it has destroyed me.

I wish you luck with your future endeavours. You are a truly remarkable woman and I am glad to have known you, whatever you may think of me. If you choose to continue in this game, then I have no doubt you will find the success you're looking for. It takes time and patience, but I know you'll get there. Just do me a favour, don't become like me, don't lose sight of who you are. If you can do that, then maybe you can achieve the seemingly impossible. You can play this game and be happy at the same time.

Good luck.

William Darcy.

* * *

 **AN. Thanks for reading, I hope this is ok. I was going to do away with the letter, but lets face it no P &P fanfic would be complete without one. Think i'm gonna time jump about six months later for the next one just to warn you. Cheers.**


	22. Behind the Six

_Nine months later_

The day was perfect. Conditions were ideal for flat racing, the atmosphere was one of celebration, light decadence and optimism. The sun shone, the ground was firm, the paddocks were teaming with activity. Horse racing, a staple of British culture, followed by millions in betting shops all across the country with small red pens and fingers crossed, witnessed by the privileged few. A day of dressing up and getting drunk on champagne, revelling in money and excitement. Monkeys were being placed, indeed bets upwards of five grand were not at all rare. Amongst all this, a man dressed in classic country gentlemen gear moved through the crowds, occasionally being stopped by an enthusiastic greeting, responding in equal fashion.

"Hugo, you young whippersnapper! What a bloody day, eh?"

"Quite the day indeed, Jerry," he agreed, his smile wide and open. "Tell me, is Barbara here with you? I must congratulate her on that splendid dinner party last week."

"Left the ball and chain at home today," Jerry grinned conspiratorially. "Got my eye on this pretty young thing Marcus introduced me to a few weeks back. Speaking of, I best get back and refill her champagne glass. We must do that hunting trip some time! And remember, not a word to the wife dear boy. Not. A. Word."

"Get out of here, you old dog!"

Hugo continued on, heading to the paddock area, still smiling at the days events. Just a few hours ago, he'd set in motion something big. He was waved through by the security with no questions asked, immediately given a glass of champers and a cigar to chomp on. Life was good. And it was going to get much better come next week. He had a plan you see. A dastardly, genius plan.

Hugo Chamberlain liked to say he was part of the new 'posh and proud' generation. He was not ashamed of his background, not ashamed that his forebears had built the families fortune through tobacco sales. Why should he feel bad about it? People chose to smoke right, it was a concise decision. Then they wanted to complain about lung cancer? No, fuck that. Also, it was nothing to do with him. It was the older generation that had done it, not him. So yes, he was the benefactor of a sizable fortune, a big trust fund, private schooling, top universities. What was he supposed to do, give it all to charity? No, you play the hand you're dealt in life, that's how he'd always looked at it, and he'd played his. And if he was being honest with himself, the favourable cards had not brought him the happiness most people thought it should. Nearing thirty, he found himself in what he could only describe as a rut. He had a job in the City, banking to be precise. Posh and a banker, oh how people must hate him, he often thought. That didn't bother him, no, what bothered him was the fact that it was now so mind numbingly boring. Working in the office day after day, walking on that same bit of carpet. Ok, so his office was on the top floor of a London skyscraper with panoramic views of the vast sprawl, but it was still an office. At first, fresh out of university with the arrogance of new money and youth, he'd loved his job, the adrenaline, the late nights, the boys club vibes. He was good at it as well, he worked as hard as anyone. But as the years rolled by, it began to become a chore, harder and harder to drag his feet into the building, pull those all nighters required. He needed something else, some reason to get up in the morning, fill the gaping chasm that is life.

The races had always been a passion of his ever since he was a young boy. Royal Ascot, Epsom Downs. He loved the sheer beauty of it, the baseness of it, the crack of the whip and the buzz in the crowd. The pretty girls in their summer dresses and big hats, the champagne flutes, the way that even though appearances were still mostly maintained by the rich set, the masks slipped a little more often with the scent of decadence in the air. He'd seen things you wouldn't believe at these events, members of the royal family snorting cocaine from a woman's cleavage, sex in the most creative of places, obscene amounts of money being thrown around like it was nothing more than a nuisance to it's owner. He'd even witnessed a gentleman's agreement to sell arms to both sides in some civil war taking placing in one of those countries you couldn't pronounce. This was where it all happened. This was where he wanted and needed to be.

More than that, and perhaps more pure, was his love for the sport. For the horse as an animal, that majestic beast that galloped and powered down the field, surely fully aware of the expectation on it. The thrill you got when your horse, the one you backed and told others to, romped home at a canter, destroying the field. The smell of the place, the fresh cut grass, fuck, even the horse shit in the paddocks. He loved it, everything about it. But then on came Monday morning, he'd trudge back into his glass cage of an office and get back to the real world. Well, the real world for him. He was fully aware of how lucky he was to be in this position, that's the thing people often misunderstand about rich people. People like him weren't as socially blinded as they were often made out to be. But, as he said, you play the card you are dealt. He was playing his.

And now, he'd been dealt Blackjack.

It had all happened by accident. He was a regular around the races, all the big events, his name was known by almost everyone in the game. What set him apart from his friends in the hospitality boxes was his desire to get to know every faucet of the event, every mechanism, how everything worked. He spent time with the trainers, the bookies, the jockey's, the stable boys. He remembered their names, asked them questions, made them like him. Tried to break down that us and them barrier. Initially he'd met some resistance and caught the eye rolls as he approached in his fake country gentleman get up and plum accent. But he'd worn them down through his sheer enthusiasm for what they were all doing, forcing them to change their minds. It felt good. He was around his passion, he felt more alive. But even then it took the nudge, took someone to mention oh so casually and in a jokey manner, that this could be a genuine career for him if he wasn't such a successful City boy. In that moment his life changed. Why shouldn't he do this? Follow his passions, his dreams, feel this alive every day of the week, not just in weekends, become a part of something that he actually cared about. He was going to start his own stable, his own horses, his own syndicate.

However, even for a man of his resources, it was not that simple. One did not simply walk into this business. You didn't just buy a few horses and hope for the best. It took time, connections and patience. Money, yes, but that alone wasn't enough to succeed here. He soon realised it would take years, decades even, to make this work for him. He liked to think of himself as a patient man, but not to that extent. He wasn't going to wait around, watch his sizeable, but certainly not bottomless, fortune drained away. He became despondent as he realised that this dream was perhaps out of reach, even for him. Just as he'd resigned himself, just as the dream began to slip away into the realms of fantasy to only be revisited when asleep or after a few too many drinks, his moment came. The cards were turned.

It turned out that all those hours spent around the racecourses with everyone from the minor Royals in attendance down to the stable hands had been the key to starting this journey. The key to achieving what he longed for. A couple of months back, he'd been hanging around the holding areas talking to a few of the trainers when he'd overheard a conversation between a man and what he later found out was his wife. They were talking about their daughter's schooling fees, so far so dull. The conversation was slightly heated. Hugo had said his goodbyes and was about to go and put a few hundred pounds on one of his inside tips, but he was stopped in his tracks as the conversation took an interesting turn.

"Look," the unknown man had said. "It's only a matter of time. You've seen the times on this Thoroughbred, you know that we're sitting on a goldmine with him."

"Exactly!" the woman had hissed. "Sitting on! He's a great horse, could be the best, I've never seen anything like him before, but all we can do is sit on it. You need money in this game, and we don't have any thanks to you!"

"I'll have backers queuing up as soon as I put it about."

"And who's going to listen to you?" the woman spat. "We're blacklisted, Peter, all thanks to your stupidity! I'm surprised we haven't been chucked out of here yet. No-one will touch us, not after you took the fall. I told you to never get involved in that syndicate, told you that they would get caught. Printing off winning tickets before the race had even finished? How obvious could they be! And of course, the trail led straight to us, not any of them."

"I was trying to save this family!" the man counterattacked, Hugo growing more and more curious from his position. "That bloody school you insisted on sending Anna to and all your holidays were killing us financially. We were in deep trouble. I had to do something!"

"All you did was get us in worse trouble. Now we have legal fees, they're threatening to repossess the stables. If we don't find some money within three months, we are out on the street, Peter!"

"This horse can run the mile in one minute, thirty nine seconds, a furlong in less than eleven and he's not even been race tested! You've seen it with your own eyes. He's only going to get better. He's the next Frankel, I know it. And he's ours. We bred him, we trained him, we own him. Any black marks against our names will not matter when they see him. We'll get a backer and then…."

"The problem is, Peter," the woman interrupted with a sigh. "No-one's going to want to see him. You have no friends left, no connections, no-one is going to drive all the way up to Yorkshire on your word. You're a cheat, that's the end of it for everyone. So, no, we're not going to get a backer. And we can't do it on our own. We only have one option…."

"I won't sell him!" the man erupted. "He's priceless!"

"But a house isn't. A mortgage repayment isn't. Our daughter's future isn't. We need money, Peter, and we need it fast. So unless a miracle appears from nowhere, that's exactly what you are going to do."

The woman stormed out the stables, not noticing Hugo. He snuck a glance as she brushed past. She looked about forty maybe, blonde hair not as immaculate and vibrant as it used to be he'd wager, but she held herself straight and with pride. The man came out not long after, again too lost in his own thoughts to notice Hugo. He was a little older than her, his face was tired, his hair prematurely grey and thinning. He oozed desperation.

For the rest of the day, Hugo had been distracted by what he had overheard. A Thoroughbred, not even race tested, raised by those two, running the mile in 1.39? Surely it couldn't be. That was ridiculous, quicker than most regular winners. The next Frankel? No, come on, people were always saying that rubbish about their new horse, showing off. But these two weren't showing off to anyone. They hadn't known he was there, for all they knew they were having a private conversation. So were they just so desperate and deluded that they had to tell these lies to each other? It couldn't be ruled out. But what if, just what if, it was true. What if by some miracle, some disgraced trainer had managed to breed a horse that was potentially one of the greatest of all time? Wasn't that worth at least a look?

He kept his eye out for the rest of the afternoon, but he didn't see the two again. Somehow, he felt like this was opportunity being missed. Logic and reason said it was a goose chase, he was probably wasting his time. But so what? His curiosity had been pricked, and he wanted to believe it. This could be his chance. If this horse was a good as they said he was and nobody else would touch them, what was stopping him from swooping in? Just imagine, Hugo Chamberlain, the man behind one of the best racing horses in history. Something to get up for in the morning indeed…..

* * *

However, he wasn't going to get carried away, after all, this was more than likely to be wasted time. When he didn't see the two again, he decided to ask around. He had a vague description, had the name Peter and the name of his daughter, Anna. The logical place to start was the trainers. So, the next Saturday at Aintree, he went through his usual routine, meeting and greeting everyone in sight, whatever their background, only this time asking the questions that were about to change his life. The first few people he talked to were no help at all and he became despondent, coming to the realisation that this was indeed just a goose chase.

Just as he was giving up hope, he struck gold.

"Say, Jacko, I overheard a little bit of chatter the other day and wondered if you could help me out?" he asked Jack Crownley, a working class trainer who was always friendly to him. He wasn't the best in the business, but he made a decent living out of the occasional placing and Hugo liked him, liked that he never seem to hold any of that lingering class antipathy towards him.

"Sticking yer nose in where it don't belong again, Chambo?" Jack laughed, Hugo revelling in his new nickname. It was proof that he was being accepted.

"Nothing like that, I assure you. Just something that piqued the old curiosity is all. Probably nothing….."

"Ask away, mate." Jacko invited, slowly walking around his horse who would run later in the day. This one didn't stand a chance, but Hugo knew that Jack took pride in his work, if the horse was going to race, it was going to race to the best of it's ability, even if that still meant it placed last.

"Something about some dodgy dealings. Yorkshireman, Peter something, got a daughter called Anna. Maybe caught up in some dodgy syndicate, printing off winning tickets before the race had even began. You hear any whispers?"

Hugo could tell that Jack was uncomfortable straight away. Maybe, just maybe….

"'eard nuffin my end, pal." Jacko replied, not making eye contact, seemingly fascinated suddenly by his horses saddle arrangement.

"Come on, Jacko," Hugo pressed, knowing he may well finally be on to something. "It's just us talking here. Nothing bloody sinister or anything, I heard a rumour, that's all. I want to know just how dirty some of these races I've been at have been."

Jack stiffened again, before letting out a snort and continuing his circling.

"Alright, alright," he sighed. "It's not like I hold the man in particular esteem. You're talking about Peter Hayward. Used to be a trainer like me, same kind of standing, you know, good but not the best. Got by alright. It weren't enough for that piece of shit though."

"What do you mean?" Hugo asked, barely concealing the excitement in his voice.

"Wasn't content with just being in the sport like the rest of us, playing it clean and honest. Nah, Peter, he wanted more, got greedy. Dunno how it happened, but suddenly he was running around with this Russian syndicate, turning up at the events all dolled up with that bloody daughter of his. Started to get some wins too, at the smaller races. Only, it turned out that this syndicate wasn't quite as good as he thought it was. Only took em about three months to get caught doing what you said they were. Printing of winning tickets before the race. Fuckin amateurs. I mean, if you're going to cheat, at least have the decency to do it properly."

"How'd they do it?"

"Thinking of getting involved, Chambo?" Jack laughed. "Just messing, I'll be fair to you, you love the sport too much. That's why I talk to you."

"I've asked around a bit, but no-ones known any of this," Hugo frowned. "Why is that?"

Jack looked at him, with a hint of amusement and worse, condescension.

"Look, Chambo," he began diplomatically. "I like you, I've said that already. I don't hold no grudges against people like you…"

"People like me?"

"Yeah, people like you," Jack smirked. "All 'weekend at the farmers market' clothes and proper Queens English. But, you gotta understand, it rubs some people up the wrong way, you know? Now, I ain't saying people don't like you, somehow you've become quite popular down amongst the plebs, but they ain't gonna start opening their mouths about one of their own. They ain't gonna trust you, I'm afraid to say, not for a while, anyway."

"But, I thought…." Hugo trailed off with a whine, disappointed that he hadn't made the inroads that he thought, that he was the victim of this kind of reverse snobbery.

"Thought what, that you were one of us?" Jack said, gently. "It ain't ever gonna be the case, mate, it's just not true, never will be. This is the British way, a system built on class, they'll always be that divide. Never underestimate the working class resentment towards you privileged folk."

"So," Hugo recovered. "Why are you breaking down these barriers by talking to me?"

"Perhaps I'm just more enlightened," Jack chuckled. "Nah, as I said, I like you, Hugo. You live and breathe this sport, I respect that regardless of where you come from. Ain't your fucking fault is it? But, if I'm being honest, if you'd have brought up someone that I didn't despise so much I would have kept my mouth shut like the rest. It ain't good for our sport, ain't good for our livelihoods for the onlookers to ask these type of questions. It was an embarrassing affair all round, one that we don't like to chat about. It got dealt with, Peter got kicked out, the end. Why you askin anyway?"

"As I said, just piqued my curiosity, that's all. I appreciate you breaking ranks for me, Jacko. Nice to know I've got a few friends around….."

"Oh, don't go all fuckin poor me," Jacko laughed. "These things take time, Chambo. You're doing the right things, you're different from all those mates you drink the champers with, we all know that. It just takes more time to build up that trust."

"Of course," Hugo nodded, feeling slightly better about the whole thing. "Good luck with it today, Jacko."

"I'm gonna fucking need it with this piece of shit." Jacko muttered, patting the horse more aggressively than he probably should, causing Hugo to laugh as he walked away, his mind alight with possibilities.

* * *

So, that was how it began. Jacko's story was confirmed by a bookie at Sandowne Park later in the month, and Hugo's excitement began to build. Here was a disgraced trainer, someone who had alienated his entire profession, potentially in possession of a Thoroughbred that could be a champion. And he was the only one who knew, and probably the only one who would be willing to give this man the time of day. It could be the opportunity of a lifetime, the opportunity to make something entirely his own. The plan began to form. Knew he was getting ahead of himself, knew that there was still a massive likelihood that the horse was nowhere near as good as he had overheard, but what if it was? He couldn't let it slip. He'd find these people, he'd flatter them, charm them, let them know subtly that he was interested in investing in stables with talent. See the horse and see if this was worth it. He'd get into bed with them, back them financially for a while, before cutting them out completely, buying them out as fast as he could, bringing in his own men, his own trainers, his own ideas, starting his own syndicate with this Thoroughbred at the head. Racing gold. He could actually do this. Felt a slight twinge of guilt at his plan, but then again, this Peter fellow was a cheat, had brought the sport into disrepute. No, he deserved it.

It turned out that it took no effort on his part to come into contact with the people he was looking for again. Early May found him at Newmarket, taking in the atmosphere from the stands amongst the paying public. His friends often laughed at him for this, after all he had access to the hospitality suites and boxes. But he liked to be in the thick of it. He was watching one of the earlier races when he heard a crash and felt the sensation of liquid seeping into his shirt.

"Oh, gosh!" a young woman with long red hair exclaimed, frantically steadying herself and looking at him with horror. "I'm so sorry, I'm such a bloody klutz!"

Hugo felt a flash of annoyance as he looked down at his ruined shirt. He was dressed more formally today as he'd had a business meeting before the races kicked off, and his expensive gear was now ruined.

"For God sake," he muttered, doing his best to clean himself up with his handkerchief.

"Here, let me help you." the woman began dabbing at his shirt with her own cloth, Hugo pushing her away gently, looking at her for the first time.

In some ways, she was exactly the type of young woman you'd expect to find at these type of events on first impressions. She was dressed immaculately, her hat was big and colourful, her dress was light and summery. Her red hair was straight and sleek. He'd always liked redheads. But as she stepped back and wrung her hands together in nervous embarrassment, Hugo realised she was different from the others. He got the impression that here was a girl who was, deep down, uncomfortable in her own skin. She just didn't hold it together as well as the other well bred girls. She was nervous instead of confident, looking down instead of straight ahead, somehow stooped as if she was trying to make herself smaller. These were not mannerisms that were common here. He felt his heart soften slightly.

"Hey, look, don't worry about it," he said softly, causing her to make eye contact. He was struck by her big brown eyes. "I've got plenty more at home."

"I really am sorry," the girl apologised again, but she was smiling shyly. "My mother's always telling me I need to concentrate more. 'Always off with the fairies, you', that's what she says."

"Nothing wrong with that at all," Hugo smile, feeling a certain warmth inside him. "Much better to be a dreamer in my opinion. If we all lived completely in the here and now, I think we'd be quite depressed, don't you?"

"What do you mean?" she asked, an adorable crease appearing on her forehead.

"Never mind," he shook his head, not keen to expand on his viewpoint. Society dictates that you shouldn't get into philosophical debates on a first meeting, it tends to put people off you. A shame really. Instead, he extended his hand. "I'm Hugo Chamberlain by the way."

"A pleasure," she grasped his hand lightly. "Anna Hayward, gold medal winner in awkwardness."

Hugo laughed at her joke before it suddenly clicked. Anna Hayward. Peter Hayward. This was who he'd been looking for, the disgraced trainer that was going to make his dreams come true. This was meant to be, he smiled up to the heavens. Today., God was most certainly on his side.

"The pleasure is all mine, Miss Hayward," he charmed, rewarded with a slight blush. "How about we go and replace that drink that's all down my shirt?"

* * *

It was remarkably easy to insert himself into the Hayward's lives. It had only been two months since his first meeting with Anna, and he was already treated like family. It was sad really, they were so desperate for friends. Anna, who confided in him that she had always been picked on by the other girls around the races and stables, latched onto him as if he was Jesus Christ himself. And Peter and Rosa were only a little less enthusiastic. They'd spent months as lepers, shunned by the racing community, and they were grateful that Hugo didn't judge them. Peter had admitted what he'd done over a few late night brandy's after the Goodwood meet. Hugo had acted with surprise, but had quickly reassured his friend that he wasn't at all bothered about his past. That was when the horse had first been brought up. Peter was vague with the details, reluctant to admit too much, but Hugo managed to wheedle the details out of him. Soon enough, he had a viewing arranged at their Yorkshire stables.

He'd decided what he was going to do if this horse was genuine. The Hayward's were in dire financial straits, they were even more desperate for money than they were friends. Initially he'd planned to string them along for a bit, investing a little at a time until he'd built up enough trust. Then he'd planned to sting them completely. But now, he'd realised that it was unnecessary, overcomplicated, the solution was simple. He was going to buy the horse outright. He'd ran the figures, losses against potential earnings, and had come up with the quarter of a million figure. That's what he was going to offer them to sign over the horse to him. They were in no position to turn it down. Peter had approached all his former friends about his Thoroughbred, but they all laughed him out the room. No-one would give him the time of day. They needed this, and they needed it now. Hugo was going to oblige. Of course, he was ripping them off. If this horse was that good, then they could become millionaires off of it, if they had the contacts. But they didn't. What they had was the wolves at the door and nothing to bargain with, except for that one precious beast that no-one, except for Hugo, would even look at. His dreams were alive, he was going to become the owner of his own champion.

Imagine his delight when it turned out to all be true. He'd gone up to Yorkshire for three days, using some of his precious holiday. Totally worth it. He watched as this remarkable stallion did the mile in one minute, forty two seconds. Then one minute, forty five. Then one minute forty two again. Ok, so not the under one forty promised, but still an amazing achievement for such a young horse. Race winning times. It was funny how time seemed to slow down when Hugo was watching his future gallop down the field. He could have sworn that it was taking longer for the horse to get to the finish, but every time he looked down at Peter or Anna's stopwatch, the time was quicker than he'd ever have expected. Put it down to the importance of these moments. His brain was trying to preserve the memory for the future, when he could look back and say this was where it all started.

The decision was made. He was going to do this. He and a few pals were heading up to Edinburgh in a few weeks for the Musselburugh meet, not the most glamorous events, but always worth it for the weekend away, and he decided that was where he would do it. He would treat the Hayward's to a weekend of absolute luxury, the best hotels, the best country clubs, the best box at the races. Butter them up. And then, over some late night drinks, the plotting would begin. He'd come straight out with it, sympathise with their plight, say he just wanted to help, and then hit them with his offer. A quarter of a million. Not a measly sum, but he could just about afford it and still be comfortable. He knew Peter's insistence about not selling the horse was growing more and more hollow, his wife was getting to him, Hugo had seen it with his own eyes. No, their was no way the Hayward's could turn this down. It was more than they could ever expect to get out of this whole debacle. Indeed, Hugo was being slightly generous, he could probably get the horse for half that. But he liked them, particularly the daughter. She was so innocently sweet, so adorably awkward. He saw her almost like the little sister he never had. He was being devious towards them yes, but he was also being over generous at the same time. It helped him sleep at night.

He steeled himself, about to make the most important move of his life, and turned to Peter and his family just as he was about to take his leave.

"Thank you so much for your hospitality Peter, Rosa and Anna. It's been a delightful few days, I'm sad to be leaving."

"It's been a treat having you here," Rosa said warmly, before her eyes betrayed sadness. "We don't get many visitors these days…"

"Well, it's their bloody loss!" Hugo embraced her warmly, causing her to laugh.

"Such a bloody charmer!"

"You know it," he winked at Anna, causing her to blush prettily. "I'll have to repay the favour one day soon. Actually, I'll tell you what, there might well be something….."

He put his plan into action, pretending the thought had just struck him like lightening. These people were putty in his hands. The adrenaline was coursing, the great game was afoot.

"Me and a couple of friends are heading up to Edinburgh the weekend after next, maybe you could join us?" he asked earnestly.

There was a pause.

"It's not great timing, Hugo," Peter sighed, his pride about to be dented. "Can't afford to be off gallivanting at the moment."

"Oh no, no. All on me, dear friend. My treat for all. A few have cancelled so I'm left with extra rooms and tickets that I need to fill. All inclusive, all paid for."

"We wouldn't want to impose…."

"You'll be doing me a favour," Hugo claimed, knowing he had to play it carefully. Prideful families did not accept charity lightly. "Would be a shame to see it go to waste, and I think it'd be good for you. Some of that Highland air!"

"If you're sure….."

"Of course! Tell you what, I'll even pick you up, it's only a slight detour. Bring your gladrags, Rosa, Anna. We'll be dancing the night away!"

"It sounds wonderful!" Anna exclaimed. "Can we go, Daddy? Please?"

Peter paused again, before his eyes softened as he looked at his daughters enthusiasm.

"We'd be delighted." he smiled at Hugo.

"Excellent! Ok then, weekend after next, I'll text you the details. We'll be staying just outside Edinburgh, a place a friend recommended. Hotel and casino type thing, supposed to be the best. Pemberley or something…"

"Pemberley?" Anna asked sharply, almost as if the name held significance to her.

"I think so. You know it?"

"No, no," she replied sweetly, seeming to recover. From what though, Peter couldn't figure out. "Never heard of it. Funny name is all…."

"Oh, Anna," Hugo laughed, brushing it off as one of her strange quirks. "I'll never understand what goes on in that head of yours, will I?"

"Not much, I imagine…." Peter muttered, earning a glare from his wife and causing Anna to look at her feet. He did that a fair bit, put his daughter down. Hugo understood why he did it, Anna wasn't the sharpest tool and she didn't exactly do a lot, but still, it was a bit harsh. Not his business though.

"Well, I best be off," he tipped his hat and opened his car door. "Check your phone for the details, Peter, and I'll see all of you weekend after next. And again, thank you so much for your hospitality. I've had a grand old time! Quite the horse you've got as well….."

"It is indeed," Peter nodded. "Safe journey home now!"

The car door was slammed shut and Hugo was away down the gravel track. He looked back briefly and offered a wave which was reciprocated until he was out of sight. Leant back, hand on the wheel and allowed himself a grin of triumph. He was going to do this. He was going to follow his dream. He was going to become a legend.

* * *

Peter, Rosa and Anna Hayward waved as the car snaked down the country road, until it disappeared from sight. When they were sure he had gone, they turned to each other.

"What was all that about then?" Peter asked Anna, who was busy scratching uncomfortably at her head.

"This bloody wig!" she exclaimed, ignoring him. "Why was it necessary?"

"He likes redheads," Rosa replied. "Answer the question. Why did you react to that place? Pemberley? You're lucky the boy's a bit dim otherwise he might have sensed something was up."

Anna shook her head.

"It doesn't matter, won't effect us."

"I'll be the judge of that." Peter said, with a stern expression.

"Ok, fine," Anna sighed. "Do you know who used to run Pemberley?"

"Afraid not." Rosa narrowed her eyes.

Lizzy Bennet removed her red wig, letting her brown hair cascade down at last, and then turned to Edward and Stacy Gardiner.

"So, what do you lot know about a certain Will Darcy?"

* * *

AN. Callback. Cheers for reading. Let me know what you think.


	23. Twists

"I know I've said this a hundred times, but that horse, Peter… My God!" Hugo was effusing from the drivers seat, 'Peter Hayward' sitting next to him and 'Anna and Rosa Hayward' in the backseats. It was two weeks later and they were on their way to Edinburgh for a weekend at the races.

Eddie Gardiner, Stacy Gardiner and Lizzy Bennet had another motive for going.

100,000 of them.

Of course, they couldn't be sure, but this was the least amount of money they expected to be in possession of come Monday morning. It had all been so easy. Hugo Chamberlain had fell for it all hook, line and sinker. Lizzy felt a brief flash of guilt for the poor man, before she quickly pushed it away. Hugo wasn't a good man, she should have no issues taking a fraction of his wealth. She would not let guilt ruin her first big score.

She knew she shouldn't be thinking along those lines. There was still a long way to go, still a whole weekend to get through. Hell, maybe Hugo wasn't even going to do what they thought he was going to do. Maybe he wouldn't offer them any money for the worthless horse that was rolling around their fake stables. But they were pretty sure he would. They had played it to perfection, had picked the mark who was overwhelming likely to take the bait, and had executed. Now came the final push. They had to maintain that perfection.

Lizzy leant her head against the window and closed her eyes, briefly reflecting on how far she'd come in the space of less than a year. She'd returned from Las Vegas changed, hardened, having been taught a lesson. She realised that before, she had been naive to the point of ignorance, arrogant to the point of delusion . Will Darcy had showed her that. And instead of shrugging it off, she decided to use it, use the lessons learnt to become someone not different, but someone savvier, someone better, someone who could play this game seriously. Gone were the dreams and the delusions, replaced with pragmatism and a reality check. Didn't let her forget herself though, didn't let him completely shatter her self belief. She had skills, she knew that. One of the best short con players working in North London, she knew that too. Came to a fork in the road when she had touched down in London. Did she take Lady Catherine's advice, walk away from what she was, what she loved, or did she listen to Darcy, use her talents and run with them?

She went with Darcy because, well… she didn't know any other way to be and perhaps the other option was just too scary.

As soon as the decision was made, she got to work. She moved away from the Bennet's, indeed she hadn't seen most of them in months. Still lived with Jane, still saw Lydia every now and again despite how distant her sister had become, but she focused her attention on others, people who could help her achieve her goals. For a few months, she picked up where she left off with Cyclops, running some solid grifts and building up a small reputation and some new contacts. One of those new contacts was Stacy Gardiner. Stacy was around forty years of age and Lizzy and Cyclops had stumbled across her when they accidentally barged in on one of her scores, a clever twist on the classic Rag. The Rag was a scam that encouraged the mark to invest in stock market shares illegally that turned out to be worthless in the end. Indeed, the score they were currently playing was a version of this. Lizzy and Cyclops had been staking out Stacy's mark for a couple of weeks, keen to play a similar scam on him. They hadn't realised he was already in the midst of being taken. Lizzy had attempted to reel the mark in, all in front of Stacy Gardiner, who had to seek them out and warn them off before her own scam came down around her. Lizzy promised to walk away, as long as the woman gave her her number. She realised that this was woman who she could maybe learn something from and wasn't going to pass on the opportunity. They got on well, Lizzy used all the charm she could muster and after a couple of months of meeting up occasionally, she met Stacy's husband, Eddie, the second part of the duo. They were long con players who had spent the last few years in the States building up a respectable reputation in grifting circles over there before deciding to return to England for the last few years of their career. They were going to retire at 50. The Rag scam had been their way of settling back into the English game with something basic, and they were ready to press on. And they needed a crew. Lizzy begged them, said she'd start out at the bottom, said she'd do anything just to be involved. Her pride took a dent, but she knew that this was what she had been waiting for. The Gardiners appearance in her life had been no accident, fate had brought them together and Lizzy was fucked if she was going to let her pride stand in the way of that. After some coercion, they had agreed. Lizzy would come on board in a observatory capacity initially. Eddie was the roper, Stacy the inside woman, and completing the crew was a fixer by the name of Hakim 'Hacker' Ali, who Eddie had flown over from the States. Hakim was twenty one years of age and a complete genius. He'd spent his teenage years as part of the Anonymous collective, executing some of the biggest cyber attacks the world had ever seen, before he decided the risk was too high. His friends were dropping like flies and it was too much for the young man. At some point, he had collided with Eddie, and he and the Gardiners were now like family. Lizzy had been a bit jealous at first, but she'd soon got over it. Hacker was an overwhelmingly nice guy as well, shy, nervous, all vocal ticks and stutters, with a good heart and an uncanny knack for grifting. This was all child's play for someone who had spent their actual childhood hacking into the most secure locations in the world. Lizzy suspected he welcomed the change of pace.

Lizzy had watched them, watched how they worked, how she could incorporate that into her own game and now she was finally taking part in her first long con. She had been despairing for a couple of months, thinking that Stacy was never going to give her the nod, but she stayed patient and it had come. She was to be the roper, with Peter and Stacy playing the inside on this one. Her job had been to reel Hugo in, become someone he'd like, and introduce him to Eddie and Stacy. She became Anna Hayward. And she'd played it well, Eddie and Stacy had expressed how impressed they were. She stayed on the inside, growing closer to Hugo, reinforcing their cover. And now they were about to take his money. It had all been so smooth.

Until that one word.

Pemberley.

She hadn't been able to help her reaction. The wounds were too fresh. And just as they were perhaps scaling over, here he came again. Will Darcy, the man who was swiftly becoming her actual nemesis. Managed to gloss over it at the time and Hugo had not been suspicious, but there was no fooling Stacy and Eddie. Told them her history with him. She said there was nothing to worry about, quickly confirmed with Charlotte that Lady Catherine and Anne were nowhere near Scotland. Will Darcy was in prison, she had no doubt about that. The lack of fanfare surprised her though, she had expected Lady Catherine to shout about her victory for all the world to hear. But instead, nothing. Darcy had gone dark, there had been no mention of any of his legendary crew for months, it was a mystery in the London grifting circles. Only Lizzy knew that he was in prison, serving time for attempting to rob his Aunt of Pemberley.

How ironic that her big break was going to come at the place where he had called home. Somehow, the two of them had become entwined, Elizabeth Walker and William Darcy, as different as two people could be, yet bound together by some unknowable force. She despaired of it. Perhaps her opinions had softened after his letter, that outpouring of history and emotion making him seem like a human being whose mistakes were as big, if not bigger, than everyone else's. He'd been through some shit, no doubt. A lot of his own making, sure, but still, you couldn't help but understand someone a little better and sympathise a little more when they told you their life story. She was still angry about her sister, but even that had faded. Jane had done well to shrug it off, any embarrassment she felt put aside, in fact she claimed that in some ways it was better this way. At least now there was a reason that Charlie had left, at least now she could console herself with the fact that it was not due to some shortcoming on her part. And Jane had surprised her again by half agreeing with Darcy's take on the whole situation. It's all in the game, that's what she had said, and Lizzy realised that she, and to a certain extent Darcy, were right. Lizzy and Jane were criminals, they were con artists, they scammed people everyday. So, did they have the right to be offended when it came back on them, when they were the ones played? Probably not, she concluded after time.

That was the past though. Now, she was living her future. Thanks to Lady Catherine, she would probably never see Will Darcy again. But she would be going to place that would be forever linked with him.

"You alright there, Anna?" Hugo Chamberlain's voice shocked her out of her head. "You look miles away…."

"Oh, you know me, Hugo," she grinned childishly back. "Always dreaming about something!"

Hugo laughed before continuing his conversation with 'Peter' leaving Lizzy free to shake herself from her musings and turn over the plan in her mind.

This was it.

Perfection is required at every stage.

The game was on.

It's not about the money.

* * *

They arrived in Edinburgh early afternoon. They stopped at a pub, one of those awful gastro pretensions, for some food, before they began the short drive out of the city towards Pemberley. Lizzy couldn't help the nerves coursing through her, due to both the score and the place they were headed. In what seemed like two minutes, Hugo announced they had arrived.

She had to hold in a laugh of disbelief when they drove up the wide driveway and Pemberley was revealed in all it's glory. It was stunning. The grounds were vast and littered with beauty, a huge lake taking pride of place, running straight up the middle and flowing right up to the building itself. It was like no hotel Lizzy had ever seen before, more National Trust than Hilton. Traditional yet modern, gleaming but weathered, it was hard to describe. It took her breath away. In some ways it was everything and nothing she had been expecting from Will Darcy. And to think, this could have been her future, her home even, if things had turned out different. From being abandoned on the streets of London to this castle, it would have been quite the turnaround.

She had to forget about all that though, she had a job to do, people who she cared about were relying on her.

So, she went to work. Acted with the childlike wonderment that was Anna Hayward's trademark as they came to the entrance, giggled like a schoolgirl as her bags were taken from her by the concierge, grabbed Hugo's arm as they entered, thanking him profusely and pointing out everything around them with excitement. Making him think that he was in charge, that he was dealing with country bumpkins who didn't know real luxury, that he had the high ground. As they reached the check in desk, they were greeted by an rosy cheeked woman who she would guess was in her late fifties. Introduced herself as Mrs Reynolds, the hotel manager. Again, Lizzy was surprised. This woman was nothing like the usual hotel employees, all cold professionalism and judgemental looks. She was friendly, bubbly, even slightly scattered, veering from one point to the next with little logical trail. She gave the place a family feeling, as if this was a place where the guests were people coming home from their holidays, not the other way round. Not what she was expecting from a hotel owned by Lady Catherine De Bourgh.

Mrs Reynolds showed them to their rooms, which were as beautiful as she had come to expect by now, not those modernistic pods that were all the rage, but homely with stunning views across the grounds. They were all offered a tour of the hotel, but Hugo had arranged for him and Peter to go into town to some members clubs to meet his friends who were already there. It was men only apparently, one of those awful traditions of the privileged, but in this case Lizzy was just fine with that. It would give Rosa a chance to go and check in with Hacker, who was stationed at a bed and breakfast a couple of miles away in the tiny village of Lambton. This left Lizzy alone. She was too curious not to take the tour, so she waved everyone off and then sought out Mrs Reynolds.

* * *

"So, Anna was it?" Mrs Reynolds asked as she lead her through the grand lobby, not waiting for an answer. "What do you think of Pemberley so far?"

"It's beautiful." Lizzy replied breathlessly, making sure to stay in character. Didn't need anyone getting suspicious at this late stage.

"I'm glad you think so!" Mrs Reynolds exclaimed happily, taking Lizzy's arm.

"Have you worked here long?" Lizzy asked, couldn't help but want to probe for a little information.

"Oh yes, some thirty years I'd imagine. I've seen it all in here. To be honest, it used to be a bit of a dump this place when Mr and Mrs Darcy, God rest their souls, were in charge. Became a little seedy in my opinion. I don't mean to speak ill of them, don't get me wrong, they were fantastic people, but they focused more on the gambling aspect of the place, attracted all kinds of chancers. It was their son who turned it around, young Master William. Inherited it after his parents died. It's all done to his tastes see, all the rooms, the grounds, the decor….."

"Is he still here?" Lizzy asked, fully aware of the answer, but interested to see what the spin was.

"Oh, not at the moment," Mrs Reynolds replied sadly. "He's run into a bit of trouble with some outside business, but we hope he'll be back soon."

Lizzy snorted inwardly at the delusion, she suspected that the woman knew full well that Darcy wasn't coming back any time soon. Perhaps she was kidding herself, telling others the lies so she could somehow legitimise it in her mind. It caught Lizzy off guard though, the warmth with which this woman spoke about Darcy, like a proud mother. Couldn't imagine Darcy inspiring that in anyone. Refrained herself from asking any more question, didn't want to seem too nosy, it may raise suspicions.

"Ah, yes, here's the gallery," Mrs Reynolds pushed through some double doors to reveal a high ceiling marble room, sparsely populated with all sorts of artwork, from portraits to sculptures. She wandered around for a little while before her eye caught the far wall. Adorned on it were three large portraits. Ran her gaze over them. The first showed a middle aged couple wrapped around each other, laughing with ease. The next showed a young blonde girl of about twelve she'd guess, a slight smirk on her face that promised mischief in the otherwise adorable features.

She couldn't hold the catch in her breath when she looked at William Darcy. All her interactions with the man came flashing back, hurtling through her mind at a million miles an hour. Who was Will Darcy? Try as she might, after all that had happened, after all he had done, she couldn't help but keep lingering on the question. Picasso, a spoilt rich boy, an orphan, a brother, a betrayed friend, a leader, a friend, a genius, a lucky man, a bad man, a good man, something in between the two, scum, criminal, thief, addict, in love with her, in love with the idea of her? Who was Will Darcy? In this picture, in this moment captured in time, who was he? Which incarnation was she looking at? He was smiling slightly, his eyes reflecting this, relaxed and alive. Perhaps more alive than she had seen him before. There had always been something lifeless about him she realised, the sense that this was a man drifting through his existence as nothing more than a shell. The few times he had animated himself, when he'd talked about the long con, when he'd shared a quiet joke with Richard, when he'd confessed his love for her, when he'd poured out his whole self in that letter, that was the Will Darcy she was looking at right now.

"He's handsome, isn't he?" Mrs Reynolds said quietly from next to her, causing her to jump.

Lizzy smiled slightly before she frowned.

"Yes, I suppose he is."

* * *

"Hey, Hacker, what's up?" Lizzy spoke into her phone. She'd been taking a walk around the grounds alone, despite the ominous clouds overhead. This was Scotland after all.

"Just l … le…..letting you kn…..kn….kn….know we're good to g….g….go." Hacker's tinny, stuttering voice echoed back.

"All set up, yeah? You got with Rosa?"

"Y…ye….. Yes."

"Good. Alright. don't really see why you need to be here to be honest, I'm sure you've got better things to do than drive ten hours just to sit and watch."

"We do this together." Rosa's voice cut over Hacker's stuttered agreement with Lizzy.

"Alright, alright. I'll see you later."

Lizzy clicked off and looked to the sky, hearing the rumble of thunder approaching. Could affect the races tomorrow she supposed, but that didn't really matter. That's not why they were here.

Just as she was making the decision to head back to her room, the first drops of rain fell, soon becoming more frequent and within a blink becoming an all out downpour. The grounds were vast and she had wandered pretty far through the private forest. Wasn't sure she even knew the way back. Stupid girl, getting caught up in her mind, not focusing on the score, not being ready if she was needed for some reason. This was the type of thing she was trying to eliminate, that self obsessed streak that had her too much in her own head. She was Anna Hayward, not Lizzy Bennet. She was here to do a job, not worry about her past.

Looked desperately around her, the rain soaking through to her skin, causing her to shiver and wrap her arms around herself in an attempt to keep warm. Stumbled back in the direction she thought she'd came from, searching for some shelter. After a while and after almost giving up hope, she finally spied shelter in the form of a half hidden stone pavilion about fifty metres away. She broke out into a run, reaching it in record time. Let out a breath of relief as the rain cascaded around her, hammering into the soil with ferocity. Took off her jumper, one of those awful preppy things that posh girls wore and called fucking _sweaters_ , and began to dry her hair with it. Inhaled deeply, exhaled slowly, and her nose detected a foreign smell, something that she knew all too well from her youth.

"Fucking Scotland, man…" a woman's voice called out from behind her in a light Scottish accent.

* * *

Lizzy soun round in suprise.

A young woman was smirking back at her from her position sat on the cold stone leaning against one of the pillars, legs stretched out in tight black jeans and ratty converses, pixie hair cut blackest of the black, eye liner deep ocean blue, head crowned by the smoke from the spliff dangling from her mouth. Piercing on her nose, tattoos covering her bare arms, this girl was something different, Lizzy knew that right away.

Stay in character though, Lizzy. Stay in character, Anna.

"Oh gosh, I'm so sorry!" Lizzy exclaimed in her Anna voice. "I didn't realise anyone was here…."

The girl said nothing back, just stared at her with piercing grey eyes, that smirk still present.

"I just need somewhere to wait out the storm…" Lizzy tried again, this time being met by a raise of an eyebrow.

"Free country," the girl finally looked away, taking out a lighter and burning off the edge of her joint again. God, Lizzy could do with some weed….

Stay in character, Anna,

"Thank you so much!" Lizzy said, gratefully. "I didn't mean to disturb you, I just got a bit lost, these grounds are massive aren't they? I mean, I grew up in the country, but this is something else!"

"Quite." the girl dismissed, Lizzy would wager that she wasn't listening at all. Couldn't blame her, Anna Hayward was one boring motherfucker.

"I'm Anna," she wrung her hands together nervously, "I'm staying here for the weekend."

"Good for you."

Silence descended. Lizzy looked around, desperately hoping for the rain to stop so she could get away. But if anything it was getting heavier. Sighed inwardly, resigning herself to being Anna Hayward for a good while longer in this girls presence. And that meant nervous chatter and social awkwardness, not sitting in silence.

"It's such a beautiful place," Lizzy grit her teeth and got on with the job. "Are you staying here too? It's really something, you know? Can't believe I've never heard of it! I'm going to the races tomorrow, how cool is that? Yeah, Hugo, he's a friend of mine, he's got us a private box with all the luxuries. I can't wait, he's such a nice man…."

"Look," the girl interrupted with a sigh. "I'm pleased for you, I really am. I hope you and this Hugo have great sex and that you enjoy being waited on by the commoners tomorrow. But can we, like, not do this? I just wanna smoke in peace."

"Of course, yes," Lizzy replied, holding back the laugh that she wanted to let out. This girl had balls. "Sorry, I do tend to talk too much, always bloody chatting away, that's what my Mum says. She's here as well, and my Dad, Hugo invited them too, he's so generous, after all we've been through the last few months he's been a real ray of sunshine, you know? You know when you meet someone who's just really nice….."

"Oh, God, make her stop…" the girl muttered, raising her eyes to the pavilion roof.

"Just really nice and friendly," Lizzy ploughed on. "He's been so good to us, we had some problems you see, Mummy and Daddy won't tell me but I know. I'm not stupid. Daddy did something bad, made all our friends, not that I had many anyway, not talk to us. But Hugo, he doesn't care about all that, he sees past it…."

"Fucking hell, stop!" the girl raised her voice, and Lizzy fell silence, doing her best to look nervous and oblivious. "Look, love, this Hugo is only after one thing, you see that right? No man is as nice as that. He wants to fuck you, yeah? You know what that is, right?"

"Well, yes.. But I don't think….." Lizzy looked confused.

"They think about food and sex. That's it. And you're hot, in that Daddy's princess kind of way, so trust me, he's going to try it. The real question is, do you want him to try it?"

"I um…. Um…."

"Yeah, you totally do," the girl laughed, looking out into the rain. "Fair play to you, pal. Get it where you can, that's what I say."

"Get what?"

"The dick, kid."

It was taking every ounce of self control for Lizzy not to lose it and burst into laughter. The girl reminded her of herself, all vulgarity and too cool for anything attitude, carried off to perfection. The Scottish accent always made everything sound better as well.

"Oh… right." Lizzy recovered, moving a few steps away and perching on a bench that was opposite the girl.

"Peace at last." the girl chuckled, closing her eyes and taking a big drag and blowing smoke rings out methodically, as if this was a ritual done many a time.

They stayed silent for a while, Lizzy eyeing the girl cautiously. She seemed somehow familiar, she was sure she'd never seen her before, but had the feeling that maybe she was wrong about that. The rain wasn't easing. Checked her watched and realised that though she still had plenty of time till they were due to meet on the casino floor at eight o'clock, she would need to move within the hour. Couldn't believe she might fuck this up. Her first score and she'd gone for a fucking walk. Idiot.

Felt eyes on her.

"You said your name was Anna?" the girl asked, tilting her head to the left, eyes appraising her with alarming perception.

"That's right." Lizzy crossed her arms, glancing around.

"So, you're one of those rich country girls then?" the girl continued. "Weekends at the races and city breaks, spending Daddy's money, clutching on to the nearest man in bad khakis and hunting jacket."

"I suppose…." Lizzy looked down, not keen on where this was going.

The girl continued to look at her, eyes unwavering, making Lizzy feel slightly hot.

"No," the girl narrowed her eyes after what seemed like hours. "No you're not, are you?"

"What do you mean?"

"I saw you come in," the girl ignored her. "Earlier in the lobby. Latched onto that dim looking bloke, gazing round and exclaiming at everything. Dressed in those God awful clothes. And then this, the spiel, the chatter, the oh so boring white noise. You're good, I'll give you that. But who are you really?"

"What are you talking about? I'm Anna, I've told you."

"You're a liar."

"Excuse me?" Lizzy began to panic.

"It's an act, isn't it? A good one, but an act all the same. Almost had me fooled for a bit, although I'll blame the weed for my slower than normal brain."

""I'm Anna…."

"Maybe you are, maybe you're not. Hey, listen, it's fine. I won't tell anyone." the girl winked.

"Seriously, you're really confusing me."

"No, I'm panicking you," the girl corrected with a smirk. "But you're keeping it up. Props to you. You got skills but you're a liar all the same."

"Why do you keep saying that?"

The girl sighed and closed her eyes.

"I know when to spot one is all," she spoke quietly, a hint of vulnerability poking out. "I grew up with a liar, I fell in love with a liar, I lived with liars. It becomes all you ever know after a while. It's fucking tragic is what it is, but still…."

"I don't know what you're talking about." Lizzy snapped, recognizing the mistake immediately. Anna Hayward would never do that.

"There we go," the girl laughed. "There you are, it's always just below the surface isn't it? The part you want to hide. I could tell you that it's the way you walk, the way your eyes constantly look for escape routes wherever you are, the boredom that sets in them when you're going off on those faux stream of consciousness monologues. You know what really gave it away though? No wide eyed spoilt rich girl wanders the woods alone in the rain when there's a luxury spa and swimming pool waiting for you indoors. Basic things, girl, basic things. But you know what, it's your shit, none of my business really. I couldn't give a fuck what you really are. Working girl, escort, thief, grifter, chancer, dealer, cheat, whatever."

The girl stood up abruptly.

"Well, looks like the rain's stopped. Better make the most of it, it'll be a temporary reprieve. We are in Scotland after all. Go straight ahead from where you are, come to the clearing and you'll see the hotel from there. And good luck with it, whatever your game is. Tighten it up, girl."

With that and one last smirk, the girl crushed the last embers of her spliff underfoot and walked away into the trees without glancing back.

Lizzy took a deep breath and walked quickly in the direction she was told, panic almost overcoming her. Because if Lady Catherine had taken Pemberley, if she was now running the show, if Will Darcy was in prison after losing everything…...

Well, if that was true then what the fuck was Georgiana Darcy doing here?

* * *

 **AN. Hello again. Thanks for reading and to those of you who reviewed as always. Let me know what you think.**


	24. Grifters

She should have told them, she knew that much as she paced up and down her hotel room, dressed up in her formal gear, all backless gown and heels. Stacy, Eddie and Hacker. She should have told them. Looked at her watch. Was already ten minutes late to dinner. Should have told them. Should have told them that she'd become a potential liability.

So, why hadn't she?

The main reason was one of pure selfishness. This was her first big score, her first big chance, her first opportunity to prove that she could actually do this. All these long years of dreaming about playing the long con and she had finally got there, and now this? Darcy again? Wrong Darcy, yes, but still she could almost see his ghost all around her, penetrating the very air. She wasn't going to let that man ruin this for her, she couldn't. Finally she had a crew, a good crew of experienced grifters who had trusted her, took her under their wing, taught her more about the game than she could have imagined. Now her position with them was under threat. If she told them, the best case scenario would be that they'd freeze her out of the score. They'd have no choice. Worst case they'd walk away completely and Lizzy would be to blame for ruining their comeback con. Her and her past. She'd be seen as a liability, the trust she'd built would be shattered and they may well kick her out. It's not an exaggeration. All grifters were inherently selfish, friendship meant very little in this game that was for sure. So yes, Lizzy had clicked with Stacy, Eddie and Hacker, but they wouldn't risk their crew, their money, shit maybe even their freedom for her.

Should have told them.

Why hadn't she?

Secondly, and perhaps more pertinent, was the fact that just because Georgiana Darcy was here, it wasn't likely to be a problem anyway. She didn't know Lizzy, no-one here did, and there could be a hundred reasons she was at Pemberley. Maybe Catherine had had a change of heart, allowed the blameless Georgiana to stay despite her brothers betrayal, maybe Georgiana had just stayed anyway under the radar, maybe she just wandered in every now and again, sheltered by the clearly devoted Mrs Reynolds. Just because she was here didn't mean….. No, he'd been caught. Lizzy had seen it with her own eyes. He'd all but admitted it to her, said that he'd be going away for a long time. But then again, he was so relaxed, all of them had been. Caroline, Charlie, Richard, they'd all been so fucking cool, as if spending the next ten years in prison was little but a minor inconvenience. Grifters were all selfish people, as she said, but they hadn't come close to cracking, hadn't seemed to even entertain the notion of giving up each other in exchange for a pass. Maybe they were the exception that proved the rule. Or maybe, just maybe….. No. He'd been caught. She'd seen it with her own eyes.

Hadn't she?

Should have told them.

But she hadn't.

Fifteen minutes late.

The only thing to do was press on, pretend that nothing had happened and pray that she could get through the next two days without any hitches. It would be fine. In all likelihood she wouldn't see Georgiana Darcy again and the Gardiner's would never find out. It was time to put on the game face. She was here to do a job, time to do it.

Just as she was steeling herself, her phone rang. Glanced at it and saw that it was Jane. Fuck it, she thought, she was breaking all her new crews rules anyway so might as well break this one. No contact with the outside world during the con, that was law. But just hearing Jane's voice could soothe her, and she needed that right now. Just thirty seconds of that angelic tone before she walked into the lions den.

Should have told them.

But she hadn't.

Shouldn't have answered the phone.

But she did.

"Jane? You know I'm working….."

"Yes I know," Jane replied quickly and Lizzy immediately knew that something was wrong. "It's just… it's Lydia."

"Fucking Lydia," Lizzy sighed. "What the fuck has she done now?"

"Nothing," Jane puffed out. "That's the point. No-one's seen her in weeks."

"And since when was this new? That girl disappears more often than a bloke when he hears the word 'commitment'. She'll turn up in a couple of days when she's short of readies."

"Maybe, but I've been hearing some shit, Lizzy…"

"Look, Jane," Lizzy interrupted pinching the bridge of her nose. "I don't have time for this, I'm late as it is. Lydia's Lydia, she can take care of herself."

"She's sixteen, Lizzy," Jane said sternly. "I know it's easy to forget, but she's still a child and we're responsible for her!"

"Why?" Lizzy half shouted, her temper let out. "Why am I responsible for her? Because Frances decided to take her in? It wasn't my decision, I didn't have a say. Because we used to run with the same people? I'm not involved in that anymore, I've got my own shit! And it's a little bigger than finding out which loser Lydia's decided to fuck for a couple of weeks!"

There was a pause on the other end of the line before Jane's voice, normally so sweet and melodic, came back through, sounding colder than it ever had.

"So that's how it us, huh? You're done with us now you've found a better class of criminal?"

Lizzy sighed, knowing she'd gone too far. Maybe she did think like that sometimes, maybe she did feel her past was a weight dragging her down, but she shouldn't. After all they'd done for her, Jane, Tommo, even fucking Frances, it wouldn't be right. God, she was an arsehole.

"No," she breathed out after a while. "I'm sorry Jane, it's been a tough day. Ok, tell me what's going on, but be quick."

As she was saying this, she was startled by the TV turning on in her room, a message appearing on the screen in big letters. 'WTF?'. Fucking Hacker, he could manipulate anything with a cable. Her absence had been noted and she was clearly beginning to panic her crew.

"Really quick, Jane."

"Alright, we'll deal with your spiralling ego another time. Simply put, Kitty told me that Lydia's been dealing."

"Dealing?" Lizzy replied, slightly shocked but not in the least bit surprised. Lydia was Lydia after all.

"Yeah, and I'm worried. Dealing and then she disappears….."

"You're overreacting. Jesus, I used to deal a bit of weed every now and again when money was tight, so did you if I remember correctly….."

"I don't think it's just a bit of weed. Last time I saw her she had a bundle of cash on her and just laughed at me when I asked her where it came from."

The same message popped up on the TV screen. She had to go.

"Look, Jane, calm down. I'm coming back in a couple of days and I promise I'll find her and talk to her, but I can't do this right now. Chances are she'll be at the Jack Hammer tonight anyway, cheap drinks on a Friday night innit?"

"Maybe," Jane replied, unconvinced. "I'll go down and see."

"I have to go. Stop fucking worrying."

She hung up the phone and looked in the mirror. Saw the worry lines on her face. That wouldn't do. She was Anna Hayward now, not Lizzy Bennet.

No.

She was Anna Hayward now. Not Lizzy _Walker._

* * *

"There you are, Anna," Hugo stood up from his chair and kissed her on both cheeks. "We were about to send out a search party!"

"I'm so sorry everyone!" she effused, sitting down on the chair Hugo had gentlemanly pulled out for her with a grateful smile. "I was in the bath and it was just so relaxing, I just couldn't bring myself to get out!"

"What do you need to relax from?" Hugo laughed. "No offence, Anna, but your life isn't exactly taxing!"

"That's his polite way of putting you should get off your arse and get a job." Peter said sternly, shooting her a displeased glance. Lizzy knew the true meaning of his words and his look. He was annoyed at her and they would be having words later. Eddie was always harder on her than the others, and although it grated on Lizzy, after all she could admit that her ego was pretty big and didn't like to be knocked, she still recognized that she needed someone like him. Someone who wouldn't give it to her easy.

"I'm trying, Daddy!" Lizzy replied, getting lost in Anna Hayward. "It's not my fault that no-one wants to hire me…"

"Well if you'd tried harder in school then maybe you'd actually have some qualifications. God we wasted so much money on your education…"

"That's enough, Peter," Rosa put her hand on his arm. "We're here on Hugo's invitation, let's not bore him with our family drama."

"Oh, don't stop on my account," Hugo chuckled. "Holidays are built for family arguments."

"Well, not this one," Rosa laughed. "Not another cross word from you, Peter. And, Anna, you know how rude it is to keep people waiting. We raised you better than that."

"Sorry mum." Lizzy cast her eyes down, acting the chastised daughter.

"Hey, don't worry, kid," Hugo whispered to her. "I could never be annoyed at you."

"Thank you, Hugo," she beamed, before looking around the table. "I thought your friends were going to be here…."

"Oh, they decided to stay in town tonight. Me and Peter escaped as soon as we heard the words 'strip club'. They're good people though, just get carried away sometimes. You know what bankers are like!"

"But not you?" Rosa asked.

"Not anymore," Hugo shook his head. "Besides, I'd much rather spend the evening with you at this beautiful place. I must admit, I had reservations about basing ourselves here, but it is truly magnificent! Certainly a hidden treasure! And the casino looks every bit as good. I'm looking forward to hitting the tables later."

"Should be good fun," Peter nodded, earning a sharp glance from his wife. "But of course, I will be gambling responsibly."

"Too right you will," Rosa patted him on the arm. "Anyway, now my daughter has finally graced us with her presence, shall we order?"

The evening progressed, Lizzy getting immersed in Anna Hayward. The conversation flowed freely, and in the parts where 'Anna' wasn't required to speak, she whiled away the time watching Eddie and Stacy at work. They truly were remarkable grifters, every conversation they started had a point to it, whether it was turning it back to the horse or vaguely alluding to their supposed financial troubles. It was done so subtly, so instinctively, it was _art._ From her side, she also was playing it well, she embodied Anna with such natural ease now, the lies dripping from her. It was so much fun, it was such a rush. How could he ever have wanted give this up, she thought as she went about her business, before checking herself.

Wasn't thinking about that. Wasn't thinking about him.

Or at least, she was trying her very best not to. It was still there, still so present, those lingering fears. Found her eyes occasionally running away from her, looking round the room desperate not to see Georgiana Darcy's smirking face. So far, so good. Shook herself from it. Job to do. Job to do.

"Absolutely delicious!" Hugo smacked his lips a couple of hours after they had sat down, a clean plate of dessert in front of him. "You know, they've got a multi Michelin star chef in here? It's the gift that keeps giving!"

"It was indeed, wonderful." Rosa agreed.

"Yes, thank you again, Hugo," Peter clapped the man on the shoulder. "You are a good friend. Not many young men would turned down their friends and a strip club to sit here with some disgraced family."

"Nonsense," Hugo waved him off. "And I'm not such a young man anymore. You must think of me as remarkably old, Anna."

"Not at all, Hugo," she smiled sweetly. "You look much younger than you actually are."

"A backwards compliment if I've ever heard one!" Hugo cried dramatically, mock clutching his heart.

"I didn't mean… didn't mean…" she stuttered, mortified. Jokes like that went over Anna Hayward's head…..

"Relax, I'm just teasing," Hugo kissed her hand. "So, what say we hit the tables?"

* * *

By now, Lizzy was used to Pemberley taking her breath away, so she was unsurprised by her reaction as they entered the casino through the oak double doors. It was a proper casino. A proper old school 1950's gambling hall. It wasn't grand or flashy like Rosings, wasn't tacky and cheap like most of Vegas, it was just so …. _right._ So different to what she had expected, but in other ways, exactly what she had expected. The tables and wheels were all beaten and weathered like old beloved antiques and the staff were dressed in 50's Hollywood attire, all suits and bowties for the men and cocktail dresses for the women. The place was packed out, but not so much that it was a problem. The atmosphere was one of fun and celebration, a coming together of people. Could see the cynicism behind the arrangements, of course she could. An atmosphere like this made it less about the gambling, less about the winning and losing, more about the memories they were making with each other. Loosened people up, broke down their guards, making them not care so much about the money they were throwing away. But despite this, Lizzy could still appreciate it all. It truly was another world.

"Ah, Mr Chamberlain! The Haywards!" they were greeted enthusiastically by Mrs Reynolds as soon as they stepped in. "The rest of your party not with you?"

"They are truly missing out!" Hugo effused, looking round in wonderment. "This place, Mrs Reynolds….. Well words do not suffice!"

"Such a charmer, you!" Mrs Reynolds slapped him playfully on the arm, before giving him a cheeky smile. "Oh, if I was but twenty years younger….."

They all collapsed into laughter at the old woman's joke. She was something special alright, the Darcy's had lucked out with her. Maybe that's why she was still here, maybe even Lady Catherine De Bourgh could look beyond her usual disdain and see that Mrs Reynolds was an asset worth keeping. She'd wager that people came back to visit this place just for her.

After recovering and exchanging some more banter, they allowed her to lead them to one of the roulette wheels, Hugo's preferred choice of game. Mrs Reynolds departed with a smile, but not before slipping 'Anna' a couple of hundred pound chips. God, how did this place function as a business if she gave away money like that? If Catherine found out, she'd go apocalyptic, Lizzy laughed to herself.

However, she soon forgot such things and continued to play her part. Lost the chips almost straight away, obviously, Anna Hayward didn't know what she was doing in a casino. Almost hurt Lizzy a bit to act like such a naive girl, but the pound signs popping up in her head soon put paid to that that line of thought. Busied herself by following Hugo around like a devoted puppy, cheering him on at the tables. He was up as well, and thoroughly enjoying himself, his cheeks going rosy as his whisky was filled up time and again. This was good, this was how they needed him. Relaxed, having fun with his new friends, as he consciously or subconsciously established the hierarchy of their relationship. He was at the top, he was doing them the favours, they were his grateful subjects. It was perfect.

Mrs Reynolds found them about an hour later at the blackjack table and held court with them for a little while, even taking the dealers place for a bit with some amusing results, misdeals and wrong payouts. It all added to the vibe of the place and didn't come close to being as annoying as it should. It didn't last forever though, and Mrs Reynolds rushed off with a wide smile on her face and a quick wave after a member of staff whispered something in her ear. They carried on, Hugo, losing at a more frequent rate at the blackjack, but he took it well.

It was all going so well.

Until it wasn't.

It was as if she knew before it happened. As if she had felt it, the prickle on her neck, the sweat on her brow, the sudden nervousness and anticipation. Could have put it down to a last minute crisis of confidence, but she knew herself better than that. No, something was about to happen. Something big.

Eyes sought the doors as they opened.

Eyes locked on to William Darcy as he strode in the room.

* * *

She stared and she stared. Darcy was here, at Pemberley. Walking as a free man.

"What's wrong, Anna, what are you staring at?" Hugo followed her gaze before laughing, misinterpreting her gaze. "Oh, and I thought I was your type! I had the wedding theme picked out and everything! And now you turn around and stare at another man like that? It wounds me to say that he is a very good looking gentleman, I applaud your choice."

It took every ounce of her to tear her eyes away and remain in character, play it off.

"He is very handsome," she nervously giggled, her mind a mess of panic alarms and simmering emotion. "Anyway, come on, Hugo, stick or twist?"

Hugo went back to the game, Lizzy perched next to him. She had to get out of there, she was about to be blown. But how? Just excuse herself? No, Eddie and Stacy would know that something was up, they were already giving her confused glances. She couldn't signal them, and besides she was too frozen to do anything anyway. So, for some reason, she just sat down, awaited her fate, and stared. Didn't even try to process just _how_ he was here, no, she just stared.

She stared as Will Darcy was kissed on both cheeks by Mrs Reynolds, as she pinched his face and roared with laughter at his words. Stared at the warmth exuding from him in the older woman's presence. Stared as he greeted his staff with handshakes, hugs and kisses. Stared as he began to work his way around the room, getting closer and closer to their table, greeting everyone with a wide smile and a conversation. This was not the Will Darcy she knew, this was the Will Darcy that was the greatest con man of his generation. A man at such ease in a room, a man who was charming and funny, attentive and giving, a man who was making the guests feel even more at home than they already did. A man a million miles away from the real him. Stared at his form itself, his immaculate smart/casual look, his messier than she remembered hair, the way he walked and the way the corners of his mouth turned up in a half smile. The way his eyes were always focused on who he was talking to, never wandering, never shifting. The way he was getting closer and closer.

The way he was now here, standing in front of them.

The way he looked at her for the first time.

The way he didn't show a flicker.

"Good evening ladies and gentlemen," Darcy smiled at them all, clapping the young dealer on the back. "Is young Tony here treating you well?"

"A good lad this one." Hugo nodded, completely oblivious to the tension exuding from the girl sat inches away from him.

"That he is, I'm glad to hear it. Are you enjoying your time at Pemberley?"

"Oh, it's wonderful, sir!" Hugo chimed. "Truly magnificent. One of the best hotels I've ever stayed in and I've stayed all over the world, all the big names. I truly believe that this is the most unique of places!"

"Excellent," Darcy smiled widely. "Well, if you need anything, my name's Will Darcy and I'm the owner, feel free to ask for me, or just come up to me if I'm around. I'm always happy to help out our guests. Speaking of, these glasses look a little empty. Tony, could you get another round of drinks over here, on the house?"

"Of course, sir. Anything for you?"

"Single malt, Old Pulteney."

"Make that two, dear boy," Hugo interrupted. "Peter?"

"Sounds grand."

Lizzy cringed as she heard Eddie speak up. She was studiously avoiding looking at her crew, dreaded what she might find. She'd told them almost everything about this man, not that he needed much introduction to fellow griftters. Even in the States, Darcy's myth was legendary. They'd been stunned when Lizzy had told them how she had accidentally become involved in one of his scores, worried that going to Pemberley was too risky, but Lizzy had convinced them. Said that he was in prison, that she'd watched him go down. Said that their was nothing to worry about. Well, how wrong she had been.

"I'll just go and ask Emily to take over…" Tony the dealer was saying, snapping Lizzy out of her reverie.

"No, no. I'll deal, and get one for yourself as well" Darcy smiled at him, picking up the deck, spinning it around in his fingers a couple of times and then shuffling expertly, ignoring the machine that was supposed to do it for him. "So, to whom do I have the pleasure?"

"Hugo Chamberlain," Hugo confidently thrust out his hand, Darcy shaking it with a slight smirk that Lizzy knew no-one other than she would pick up on. "And these are my friends."

"Peter Hayward," Eddie introduced, any unease he felt masked. "And this is my wife…."

"Perfectly capable of introducing myself, Peter," Stacy cut him off with a sharp look to go with her words. "Rosa Hayward."

This was it then.

"Anna Hayward." she shook his hand, feeling that familiarity surge through her body. That electricity, that hate, that warmth… Looked down.

"Oh poor Anna!" Hugo laughed obliviously, before lowering his voice to a mock whisper. "Sorry, Mr Darcy, she has been staring at you ever since you walked in! I think she has a crush!"

"Oh stop it, Hugo!" Stacy came to her rescue. "Don't embarrass the poor girl!"

"Sorry, sorry."

Lizzy chanced another glance at Darcy, he was laughing along good naturedly, unruffled.

"I'm sure I'm far too old to be the object of Miss Hayward's affections," he laughed, "But you do look exceptionally beautiful tonight. As do you, Mrs Hayward. So, what brings you to sunny Scotland?"

"The races, good man!" Hugo exclaimed, by now quite drunk. "What else is there?"

"What else indeed," Darcy smiled, dealing the cards out. "Well, if you're at the Edinburgh meet tomorrow, I may see you down there. A few friends and I plan to make a day of it. Mr Chamberlain?"

"Stick," Hugo answered him after a quick glance at his cards. "You must come up to our box, Mr Darcy, let us thank you for your hospitality!"

"I would be honoured if time allows it," Darcy nodded, showing the cards. "Twenty."

"Blackjack!" Hugo grinned as he flipped his cards.

"Well done Mr Chamberlain. Ah, excellent, Tony…"

Lizzy accepted the glass of wine from the dealer, her head spinning and all over the place. Darcy was covering for her then. If Lizzy didn't know better she'd think he didn't even recognize her. But she did. Know better. And it didn't matter, cover or not. She was blown either way.

"Cheers everybody," Darcy raised his glass, downing his in one. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go check on the other guests. Have a good evening and I might see you all tomorrow. Remember, if you need anything, just ask."

With that and a last smile, he was gone, sweeping away from them as composed and cool as ever. Finally, Lizzy glanced at Stacy and Eddie, who were avoiding eye contact. But Lizzy could tell. Stacy had a crease in her brow and Eddie was clenching his fist until his knuckles were white. They were angry. They were scared.

"A charming fellow," Hugo mused at Darcy's retreating figure. "I approve even more now, Anna!"

"Don't be silly, Hugo," Lizzy smiled sweetly, but she knew she had to get out of there. Now. "Anyway, it's getting late and I want to make sure I get my beauty sleep before the races tomorrow. I think I'm going to go to bed."

"I'll walk you." Hugo said, his voice tinged with a little disappointment at his fun being cut short.

"No, no," Stacy stood up. "You boys enjoy yourself for a while longer. It's past time I retired as well."

"If your sure…"

"Of course. But, Peter, be careful ok?"

"Of course."

"Good. Goodnight you two."

Lizzy said her goodbyes and let Stacy grab her arm and lead her from the room. Looked around to make sure they were alone in the foyer.

"Look, St…."

"Not here." Stacy hissed, her voice laced with anger.

They made their way to their room in silence, Lizzy feeling smaller and smaller as the silence continued. It wasn't her fault, not really. How could she have seen this coming? But that didn't matter, she'd given assurances and they hadn't held. That was on her. Reached her door.

"I'll come back for you when Eddie gets back." Stacy said shortly, shoving her into the room and shutting the door, leaving Lizzy alone.

* * *

How had it all gone so wrong?

Sat down and let out the breath that she had been holding for what seemed like hours. Ran a hand through her hair, yanking the red wig off as she realised it was still there. This was it then. She was out of this score at least. Maybe even out of this crew. Her excuses, however true and justified, were still just that, excuse. She'd put them all at risk. All because of one man.

William Darcy.

Allowed herself to finally explore the question she'd been actively avoiding since he'd walked in the casino. Just how the hell was he here? He was supposed to be in prison, was supposed to have been caught red handed attempting to steal back Pemberley, and now he was introducing himself as the owner? Just what had happened? How had he crawled himself out of the hole he had dug himself? But what if….. Just what if…..

She was interrupted by a knock at the door.

Knew who it was.

Here we go again.

Opened the door.

"You know, for someone who despises me so much, you don't half keep showing up in my life with no explanation." Will Darcy frowned at her.

* * *

Pulled him into her room quickly, poking her head out the door to make sure no-one was watching before slamming it shut. Took a deep breath and turned around. Darcy was wandering nonchalantly around the room, not fazed in the slightest by any of it. She felt the weight of history all around them, the weight of their torrid acquaintance. What was he going to do?

He surprised her by smiling.

"So, how are you enjoying Pemberley?" he repeated his question from earlier.

"It's fine." Lizzy said shortly, narrowing her eyes.

"I'll be sure to put that on our next brochures," he joked, moving his eyes away from hers, pretending to inspect one of the paintings that adorned the wall. "Pemberley Hotel, 'it's fine'. Business will go through the roof. But, seriously, have you got everything you need?"

"Jesus Christ, fine, it's fucking beautiful ok? This whole place is amazing. You can stop fishing for compliments now."

"Thank you," Darcy laughed, looking too pleased with Lizzy's effusions than he probably should. It caused her a small smile for some reason. "I'm pleased with how it's turned out, it was quite the remodelling job when I first came back."

So they were going to dance around it then. Fine.

"Mrs Reynolds said."

"She's quite the character isn't she? No-one could ever replace my mother, but she has come close. But yes, it didn't have the best of reputations when I came in."

"She said it was seedy." Lizzy said, bluntly.

"I suppose it was a bit," Darcy frowned. "God bless my parents, but they were much more of the traditional casino mindset. A little tacky, working girls at the tables, awful shows, that kind of thing."

"It's all in the game though, right?" Lizzy argued for the sake of arguing. "Shows, working girls…"

"I thought that too at first. I saw no problem with bringing in the Eastern European girls to look pretty and make the men happy if they were being treated well enough and paid for their trouble. But then, I grew up, I saw the real world, the real consequences. You've met the woman who changed my mind completely actually."

"Oh yeah?" Lizzy questioned, confused.

"'Detective Inspector' Zampino," Darcy smirked. "You remember?"

"Detective Inspector indeed," Lizzy grumbled, not keen on being reminded of how she had been so outplayed. "Who is she? A grifter?"

"She's _the_ grifter. You ever heard of the Belgrade Bank Job? The Nightclub Fires? The Mali Diamond Heist?"

Jesus Christ.

"She's _The Italian_?" Lizzy whispered in shock. "The Italian is real? I met The fucking _Italian_?"

"Indeed you did," Darcy chuckled. "The greatest grifter that has ever lived."

"Jesus Christ….."

"You cannot tell anybody though," Darcy caught himself quickly. "For your sake. That woman is one of the most dangerous people you'll ever meet, and she takes her privacy very seriously."

"I'll bear that in mind."

There was a pause in the conversation. Lizzy was growing more and more impatient as the time passed. When were they going to get down to it then? When were they going to stop playing these games, acting with false smiles and civility? Darcy's next question caused her to finally snap.

"So," he said. "How have you been since last we spoke?"

"Fucking hell! Drop it." Lizzy raised her voice.

"Drop what?"

"This gracious host act. I know you, Darcy, don't forget that. I know who you really are. You don't have to pretend in here."

Darcy let out a relieved sigh and sank down on one of the sofa's.

"Oh, thank God!" he exclaimed. "It's so fucking tiresome. Walking around that casino, making small talk with everyone, pretending to care about their boring, normal lives. Seriously, I don't know how I can keep this up for the rest of my life."

Lizzy couldn't help but laugh a little at his words as she studied him properly. Despite his protests, he looked better than the last few times she had seen him. Obviously it wasn't difficult to look better than when you were facing a long prison stretch, but it was more than that. He seemed more relaxed, at ease, less prone to glancing around every few seconds. Simply put, he seemed happier.

"I've been trying, you see." he continued, but it was almost like he was talking to himself, his eyes on his feet, his voice quiet.

"Trying what?" Lizzy asked when it became clear he wasn't going to elaborate.

"Trying to answer life's eternal question," he laughed lightly. "Who are we? Who am I? Since I walked away from the con I've been trying to work myself out. Trying to be something better I think. Making more of an effort with people, hence the 'act' as you put it. Of course, it is just that, an act, one I struggle with day to day, but I'm hoping that it'll eventually become something more. I want to be a better person, you know?"

Lizzy frowned at him, her brow creased, her heart pounding. The contradiction was that she realised talking to Will Darcy, a man she really didn't like, made her feel more alive than anything. Even more alive than playing a score. The thing that was so infuriating, so irritating, and she'd admit it, so exciting, about this seemingly forced and innocuous conversation was that she couldn't tell what was real or not. Darcy had told so many lies, ran so many games, that she couldn't work it out at all.

It was thrilling.

"And am I the reason for that?" she pondered, going back to their last conversation, the insults she had hurled and that had been hurled back. Had she been the one to pierce him? If it was true, how did she feel about it?

Didn't expect Darcy to laugh loudly.

"I see your ego hasn't checked itself yet," he laughed, but whereas before she would have been insulted by the comment, she now took it in the teasing manner she thought it was meant. "It may wound you to hear, but you are a reasonably small part of my history. This change has been coming for a long time, ever since my parents died perhaps, maybe even before. I'm doing this for my sister, for my friends, but most of all I'm doing it for me. So no, Lizzy, you're not the reason for it."

Didn't like the selfish feeling of disappointment that surged through her.

"I see." she muttered, not meeting his eyes. When she finally glanced at him, she saw him looking at her with a smirk, but also with a hint of confusion.

"Ok, maybe you did play a part in it," he admitted, his turn to look away. "Maybe you gave me the push I needed….."

Couldn't help the smile. Couldn't help the warmth she felt when she received a rare small one back.

The hell was wrong with her?

"About all that," she recovered. "I'm sorry for some of the things I said. I mean, you deserved most of it, but I realise now that I maybe went to far…."

"You had the right," Darcy waved her off, the tension in the room growing to uncomfortable levels as they really got into it. "You don't need to apologise. I'm sorry for how I acted, the whole thing was a disaster that I am keen to forget. And I am also sorry that I lied to you from the off, sorry that you and Jane became more involved than you should have been. Maybe _I_ went too far…."

"Maybe," she replied, but her tone was unconvincing. "But you were right to a certain extent, Jane helped me see that. I had to tell her, not all of it, not the parts about you, but the things relating to her. She was relieved actually. Said much the same as you, that we were grifters and couldn't be offended when it is turned on us. Yes, you honey trapped her, yes, it wasn't a nice thing to do, but what can we expect? You are grifters. We are grifters. We are not nice people."

"No, we're not." he nodded.

"Don't get me wrong," she checked herself. "I still think you're a dickhead and I'm still angry, but it's done now."

Darcy laughed again, before his eyes narrowed.

"I appreciate your honesty, if that is what it is." he frowned.

"You doubt me, Will?" she laughed.

"Of course," he admitted. "Last time we spoke, you made certain promises regarding me and my friends. So you'll forgive me my slight scepticism. What is it exactly that I have come across, Lizzy? A long con with Hugo Chamberlain as the mark? Or is is something else, is it a misdirection? Am I supposed to be distracted by the show whilst being strung along? Tell me, Lizzy, am I your mark?"

Did he find this as thrilling as her, she wondered? This back and forth, this uncertainty, this tension that came from two accomplished liars trying to work out the other. Trying to work out their true motivations. Was a single word he had spoken tonight true? Was a single word she'd spoken tonight true?

It was electric, crackling wires.

"Maybe." she smirked, not willing to give up this game and admit that he had completely and utterly caught her cold yet again.

He smiled widely, wider than she had ever seen him do before. That gave her the answer. Yeah, he was enjoying every second of this.

"I'll be interested to see how this plays out then," he nodded. "Quite the crew you've assembled as well. Am I correct in thinking that that is Stacy and Eddie Gardiner down there?"

"Yes." she confirmed.

"Good grifters, good reputations. I've never had the pleasure but they made quite a name for themselves out in the States. I heard they'd hooked up with a bell man, some kid, I'm assuming that's not you?"

"No, Hakim Ali, Hacker. An absolute fucking genius. How do you know that anyway, I though you were out the game?"

"Almost everyone I know is a grifter," he sighed. "And the thing that grifters like to do when together is talk about other grifters, you know that. So it is inevitable that my social life still revolves around talking about grifiting. I hear all the stories still."

"Socialising?" Lizzy smirked. "Since when do you socialise, Darcy?"

"It is part of my new God awful life plan," he half smiled back. "Tell me, does it ever not become a chore?"

"You'll get there." she chuckled.

Silence descended. They still hadn't answered the question, they had been dancing around it for enough time now and they both knew it. Perhaps they both wanted to pretend for a while longer, pretend that this could continue. But it couldn't.

"I'm going to need to speak to your crew." Darcy said quietly after a while.

"You are?" Lizzy sighed. "Look, can't we just pretend? Can't we just pretend that you didn't see anything? Let us get on with it, we'll be gone in a couple of days….."

"No," he interrupted her, his tone serious. "I'm afraid I cannot do that. And before your ego rears it's head again, know that this isn't about you and me. Whatever I may have felt for you has no bearing on this. I am not trying to insert myself in your life because of any feelings I have had, not trying to find excuses to be around you. This is something else entirely."

"What is it then?"

"This is my home, Lizzy," he said gravely. "My sisters home, our livelihood. You and the Gardiners are playing a score in my home. That is not acceptable. Indeed, if it was anyone else I would have thrown you out as soon as saw what you were up to, that is if I saw it right. I've sacrificed everything to get this place back, and I will not risk it for anyone. I'm out of that life, out of the game. The last thing I need to do is play host to a long con crew working a score. What if it goes wrong? What if Hugo Chamberlain works it out, calls the police? What if your cool out isn't enough and he wants to get revenge? That will lead to consequences, police attention from the very same police that have built a career off of trying to lock me up. I can't risk that. And what if, just what if, he's not the mark at all and I am?"

"A lot of what ifs." Lizzy said after a while.

"Indeed." he agreed.

"Ok then, you can meet them tonight. Rosa and Eddie will be here when Hugo goes to bed." Lizzy's mind turned quickly. She needed to delay, needed to figure out just how they could get out of this. She was determined more than ever to not let him put an end to this score. Her first score. She was going to finish it and he was going to let her. Just how she was going to achieve this she didn't know yet, but the outcome was guaranteed. She had to do this. So she had to delay and acquiesce to his demands for now.

"Fine," he stood up, his tone and features unreadable, handing her a card from his pocket. "Call this number when they are here."

She took it and nodded. Darcy gave her a small smile and made for the door.

No.

She had to know.

"How did you do it?" she called at his retreating form, the words spilling from her uncontrollably.

"Do what?" he replied, his back still to her.

"You know what."

"If you are here to con me and I'm your mark, then I'm sure you already know."

"Ah, but if you're the mark then I still have to ask you to make it look like I don't know," she smirked, the game afoot. "And if you're not the mark then I really have no idea and I'm curious. So you see, either way you have to answer."

"I do, do I?" he turned to her, the smirk on her face mirrored back.

God, were they flirting?

"Yes." she put that disturbing thought to the back of her mind quickly.

"You want to know how we did it? How I took back Pemberley?"

"Tell you what," she said, mischief in her eyes. "Just give me a clue and see if I can work it out."

Darcy appeared to think about it for a minute before shaking his head with a grin and sitting back down.

"Fine. You ready?" he asked.

"Of course," she sat down next to him. "Lets prove to each other just how clever we really are. So, the clue? Don't make it too easy mind."

Darcy thought for a moment.

"Blackjack dealer." he said slowly.

Lizzy frowned and thought back on it. Looked and searched in her mind.

Didn't take long.

"Oh," she said quietly, as the whole narrative finally started to make sense. "You're good."

Understatement.

Will Darcy was a fucking genius.

* * *

 **AN. Hello again. Sorry, this one took me ages, I rewrote it like five times. Was gonna end on the Darcy walked into the room cliffhanger, but realised I'd already done that. Don't want to be repeating myself. Thanks to everyone for reading and those who reviewed the last one, I'm glad some of you are enjoying it cos I'm enjoying writing it. Let me know what you think of this one if you have a spare couple of minutes. Oh, and the next one will be Darcy POV, going back to the very start but this time with the full picture. Till then...**


	25. The Long Con (Stories)

**AN. Ok then. I go away for a few months and the world goes to shit. I thought the Brits had fucked up, but then America managed to truly show us the way. Anyway, apologies for the absence, hopefully a few of you are still left. You may want to glance through the other The Long Con chapters before this one as it has been a while, it may be a little confusing otherwise, I don't know. It's really long as well, editing is not my strong point here. Also, I don't think I've sticked the landing as it were really, but we'll see. There's probably some mistakes but to be honest I'm sick of staring blankly at this thing so I'm just gonna put it up. Thanks, crack on.  
**

* * *

 _Pemberley, Edinburgh, Scotland, Present Day..._

 _"Oh, you're good." Lizzy Bennet breathed out._

 _"You got it from that?" Darcy raised an eyebrow, impressed._

 _"It's what we all learn isn't it?" she replied. "One of the first things they tell you."_

 _"What?"_

 _"You can't cheat Blackjack."_

 _"Not anymore." Darcy nodded._

 _"So, you didn't cheat..."_

 _"Well, I wouldn't say we didn't cheat..."_

 _Rosings Park, Las Vegas, Nevada, USA, Nine Months Ago_ _…_ _.._

Darcy leant back in his wooden chair and let out the breath he had been holding in for what seemed like hours. Well that had been a disaster. Looking back, it had been so predictable. Just how had he really expected that to go? He let out a laugh, couldn't help it, it was all so absurd. What the hell had he been thinking? Declaring his love for Elizabeth fucking Bennet, now of all times. The embarrassment was overwhelming, how had he got it so wrong? She hated him, she actually hated him. Hadn't that been the plan all along? But he thought…. Well no he hadn't thought, that was the problem. The man who was meticulous, who planned everything out, who had become a legend off of his ability to read people, predict them, judge every single situation perfectly, had been so thoroughly baffled by a short con player from North London. Laughed again. Lizzy Bennet. One of perhaps only three people in the world he couldn't read, maybe that was what was so attractive about her. She was so all over the place, so beautifully inconsistent, so fucking unpredictable to someone like him. But she hated him.

Why o why had he decided that now was the best time for that? Regardless of the outcome, the timing was so fucking stupid. He was waiting, just waiting, had no idea how it had gone, the score that he had been planning for close to a year. The game within the game. Had it come off? The answer was forthcoming, he could sense it in the air. Everything so far had seemed to go to plan, but there was so much he wasn't privy to, so much he didn't know. He was stressed, anxious, nervous, the adrenaline pumping so hard. A declaration of love now? Jesus Christ.

She hated him

Interrupted by the door opening.

Lady Catherine De Bourgh was here.

The game was up, it was done.

But which way had it gone?

She gave nothing away as she stood there looking at him, face expressionless, eyes emotionless.

Clicked her fingers and a chair was brought in for her. Sat down. Sighed. Inhaled deeply, exhaled slowly. Took out a pack of cigarettes, twirled it around her fingers, just watching the lazy movement.

"I haven't smoked since your parents died," were the first words she uttered. "God I miss them."

She finally opened the packet with a resigned air and took two out, sticking both in her mouth and lighting them. Passed one across to Darcy who accepted gratefully and without hesitation or suspicion.

Because in that moment, he knew he'd won.

"So tell me, William, just how did you do it?"

Darcy smiled at her, a wave of relief crashing over him. He'd won.

"Why don't you tell me?"

Catherine half smiled at him, a thin stream of smoke escaping from her lips.

"My own daughter, William? Really?"

* * *

 _Rosings Park, Las Vegas, Nevada, USA, Half an Hour Earlier_ _…_ _.._

" _Don_ _'_ _t take this the wrong way, Elizabeth, but I hope to never see you again._ _"_

Lady Catherine De Bourgh swept out of the room, allowing herself a brief moment to contemplate the young woman she had just left behind. There was something about Elizabeth Bennet, she could almost understand Darcy's obvious interest in her. She seemed smart, not as smart as she thought she was, but still smart. Too smart to be doing what she was doing. That life only ends one way, as Will Darcy was about to find out.

However, she swiftly forgot about the Bennet girl as her mind turned to what was to come. Congratulated herself on a game well played. The idea had come to her about a month after her 'nephews' latest attempt at stealing from her had come apart, all her doing of course. Over the course of the last five years she'd let him work through his angst, letting him think that it was just bad luck that had caused his failures, whereas in reality she had stopped him in his tracks every time without him ever knowing. The hope was that he would realise the error of his ways and stop, accept that he was in the wrong, leave the ridiculous life he was leading, and they'd move past it, both feigning ignorance over what had happened. She had allowed him so much time simply because she'd loved his parents. They were her best friends, perhaps her only true friends. Oh yes, she was aware of who she was, how difficult she was, what most people thought of her. Never bothered her. She was the Queen in a city of Kings, she'd had to be the way she was otherwise she'd have been trampled into the dirt. But eventually the memory of his parents was no longer an excuse for inaction.

He'd taken the bait like she knew he would. He couldn't help himself. Him, Richard and their despicable friends, they were so sure that they were the smartest people in the room. They hadn't stopped to question it, had underestimated her. Many men had done that in the past and where were they now? No Catherine was a winner, Vegas royalty, someone who was there at the beginning, had shook Sinatra's hand, had watched the rise and fall of the Mob families, observed the Chinese money flow and flow putting lesser competitors out of business. And still she stood. And she would die standing.

She was a little disappointed that none of them had given anything up in the interrogation room, even slightly surprised. Darcy and Richard, she had expected them to cling on like rats, but the others, the Bouzid's, she hoped they may be tempted. No matter. Soon they'd have everything they needed. She made her way to the security hub where her expensive, privately hired techs would be busy analysing any hardware they had found in the suite when they had burst in on them mid score. All the casino machines that Darcy had hit had been taken there and were being taken apart. She hadn't risked inspecting them beforehand, Darcy had spies everywhere in this casino and word would have got back without a doubt. It wasn't necessary anyway, she knew they'd rigged them, even had a CCTV tape of Richard and Caroline Bouzid entering one of the warehouses outside London where they were being built. They'd rigged them, no doubt.

Came to her security hub where one of her aides who she couldn't remember the name of was waiting outside.

"Everything going to plan?" she asked him shortly.

"The casino has been evacuated, we're blaming a fire in the kitchens. And almost all of the staff have been rounded up ready for a debriefing, just waiting on a couple. A Blackjack dealer and some croupier, but they're probably just on a smoke break."

"Good, good," Catherine muttered distractedly. "Have you seen my daughter?"

"Not for about twenty minutes. I'll send her down as soon as I can contact her."

"Do that. And good work today."

"Thank you maam."

She took a deep breath and entered the room in which her victory would be completed. It felt so good after all these years to finally be doing something about her wretched nephew. She should have done this years ago.

But she knew something was wrong as soon as she stepped over the threshold. It didn't feel right. Instead of a raucous atmosphere of discovery and excitement was one of hush and even despondency.

"What's going on?" she shouted over the whispering voices. "Have we got what we need?"

Every face turned to her quickly before immediately looking away, eyes on the floor. No-one spoke. Silence. Looked around. Everything was here, the rigged machines were plugged into the anti malware, the computers recovered were all here. Her victory was right here in front of them. So why was no-one speaking?

"What is going on?" she repeated, lowering her tone dangerously.

Finally, after a beat or two more of silence, a woman rose from her position at a computer screen and approached Catherine, looking both determined and reluctant. Everyone in the room waited with baited breath as she reached her destination.

"Lady Catherine, we've done our initial analysis and…."

"And we've got them, right?" Catherine finished for her.

"Well, that's just it," the woman ran her hand through her hair nervously. "We um… we… um…"

"Spit it out!"

"There's nothing there," the woman blurted out. "I can't understand it. The machines haven't been touched, they're all functioning as they should. No malware, nothing."

"But they paid out! When they said they'd pay out, they paid out!" Catherine exclaimed, doing her best to push a horrible thought down.

"Well, actually they um… they um….. They didn't, well they did but nowhere near the amounts that came up on the computer…."

"What the hell do you mean?"

"We thought they had! They came up on the system as wins, big wins, only it turns out they were all pretty minor. The slots, that was the biggest and as far as we can tell it was actually a clean win. But the Roulette, Blackjack and Baccarat, they only paid out small amounts, but they came up on our computer with some zeros added on. Roulette came up as half a million, but the actual win was $50. Blackjack, $100,000, actually $100, and Bacarrat was $80,000, actually $80. And they were all clean as far as we can tell."

"That's impossible!" Catherine spluttered. "I saw it with my own eyes….."

But had she? What had she actually seen? She'd seen some people celebrating, heard some cheers. Hadn't seen the money change hands. So focused was she on her plan, so sure of her own genius, so sure that Darcy was doing what she thought he was doing, that….. well…..

"They must have hacked us somehow, got into our system and made it look like people had won more than they actually had." the tech mused.

"How could they do that?" Catherine asked, shaking with silent fury. She thought she saw where this was going.

"I mean, I suppose it wouldn't be impossible. But even if they got the employee access, it would take a genius to go from there. But what's the point? Making it look like the casino's being robbed when it's not? It doesn't make any sense….."

"Any employee?" Catherine wondered aloud.

"Well, they'd have to have security clearance of course to get into the server room."

"… _I_ _'_ _m sure you have some spies in my casino that I know nothing about_ _…"_

"Blackjack." she whispered, realisation dawning.

"… _.And almost all of the staff have been rounded up ready for a debriefing, just waiting on a couple. A Blackjack dealer and some croupier, but they_ _'_ _re probably just on a smoke break._ _"_

"Blackjack." she repeated, in total shock.

"… _. and could I please have my Blackjack dealer back?_ _…_ _She didn_ _'_ _t show up for her shift again tonight, and was last seen disappearing into the Bellagio on your arm._ _"_

" _Just keeping your staff happy, Lady C!_ _"_

He'd put it right in front of her.

"Oh, William, you clever boy," she hissed under her breath in reluctant wonderment. "I was looking the wrong way the whole time wasn't I? But why? What was the point of it?"

Was interrupted by her aide from earlier.

"Maam," he began, his tone worried. "I'm not sure what to make of it. Lady Anne left with a suitcase twenty minutes ago…."

"… _. we need temporary holding forms_ _…_ _.. just make sure all CCTV is wiped_ _…_ _._ _"_

"The CCTV in the interrogation room…."

"All wiped as per your instructions, maam." he replied in a proud tone.

She'd been beaten. And worse, she'd done it all herself.

"Did you find anything? On the computers in the room we found them in?" she asked her techs in a small voice, already knowing the answer but clinging to desperate hope.

"Well, there was something…" the woman replied, cautiously.

"Show me."

"I don't think…."

"SHOW ME!" she exploded.

The woman nodded and gave the signal.

Lady Catherine De Bourgh looked up at the computer screens that adorned the walls.

Let out a noise of disgust.

Turned away and swept out of the room without another word.

Leaving behind the twenty screens of hardcore pornography.

* * *

 _Pemberley, Edinburgh, Scotland, One Year and Nine Months Ago_ _…_ _.._

 _It was funny. Just as he was seriously pondering retirement, it came._

 _Richard had blown everything up._

 _Breathless and sweating, he burst into Darcy_ _'_ _s Pemberley office, eyes alight and excited, every fibre on edge._

" _I think I_ _'_ _ve found the way in._ _"_

 _And that was that._

Or was it?

Darcy paused, taking a large sip of his scotch, keeping his face as impassive as he could. With the barest nod, he encouraged his cousin to elaborate.

It took a while. Richard was all over the place, pacing up and down one minute, sitting dead still the next, the words scattering out of his mouth like machine gun fire. Darcy did his best to sift the bullets from the shrapnel, taking every ounce of his patience and concentration to achieve this. Eventually, after more than hour of his cousins muddled stream of consciousness, he thought he had the picture.

So firstly, Rosings Park had been taken. One million dollars gone, just like that. No other information, no names, no leads, nothing. But apparently, it was fact. Richard's sources in Vegas were falling over themselves to confirm it, and his cousin was one of the most connected people in that awful city thanks to his penchant for mischief and partying. Darcy often joked that it was as if Las Vegas had been designed directly to cater for Richard Fitzwilliam. Now, this piece of information was pertinent not because of the act itself, Vegas casinos got robbed a lot more than people knew, but because of its consequences.

Catherine De Bourgh had gone apocalyptic. She had fired her head of security, a man with over forty years experience in the game who was as sharp as anyone Darcy had ever met, and replaced him with someone called Billy Collins. Credited as the creator of the revolutionary security system PathSafe but dogged by plagiarism rumours, this was an individual who was, to put it politely, a fool. A chancer and an incompetent yes man who Catherine had taken a shine to. Not content with that piece of idiocy, she was about to undertake a complete security overhaul, with Collins overseeing the operation. And it went even further, this overhaul was to happen in London. The tables, slots, wheels were all being custom built in secret just outside of the city.

All of this added up to what Richard believed to be a God send, an opportunity to finally gain the upper hand in their clandestine war against Catherine. All the pieces were there, a distance disconnect, an incompetent man they could manipulate, a plan they could hijack and use to turn her own casino against her. They could get to Collins, learn the locations of the warehouses where the machines were being built, infiltrate them and rig them till their hearts content. Then, they'd let the machines pay out for a bit before blackmailing Catherine into signing over Pemberley with the threat of her whole casino collapsing around her, take a cut for good measure and be on their way.

It was either insanity or genius.

The problems were many. To rig an entire Vegas casino and get away with it? It had never been done, no-one would ever even think to attempt it. Logic dictated that it was suicide, a one way ticket to prison or worse. But what if…. just what if it was doable? What if it was so fucking daring that no-one would see it coming? Darcy was attracted to that. He'd already proven himself the best at what he did, hence his thoughts turning in the direction of retirement. Sure, he told himself and everyone else that it was for his sister, but deep down, he knew the truth was an altogether more selfish one. He was simply bored of it. Bored of winning time and time again. Bored of the lack of challenge. But here this was, the biggest challenge he'd ever face, the biggest score anyone could attempt, and him in the dead fucking centre of it.

He'd be the greatest grifter in history.

He'd have his home back. His sister would have her home back.

But yeah, more importantly he'd be the greatest grifter in history.

That was when it came. Just as he was congratulating himself for having the balls to attempt this, a nagging thought swam into view. And then it burst out of him, a wave washing away the sandcastle of optimism.

"This feel right to you?" he asked Richard.

There it was. The thing that made Will Darcy so good at what he did. The ability to keep his ego in check. Ego is the thing that defines us, more so than the heart, the soul, the actions, the intelligence. It all boils down to ego in the end. That was what most people didn't grasp. Ego was the thing that caught more criminals than anything, more than complacency, bad luck, the police. But Darcy had always had that self awareness. Perhaps it was the part of him that loathed himself, perhaps it was something else, but he had always been able to stop himself when his thoughts turned too much to his own greatness. Always been able to take a breath, step back and see the whole picture. And that was what was happening now as he looked at Richard.

"What do you mean?" his cousin narrowed his eyes, finally giving Darcy his full attention and stopping his verbal diarrhea.

"Just….. I don't know… isn't it a bit….. convenient?"

"Convenient for us, yeah!" Richard exclaimed with a smile. "This is it, Will, she's finally making mistakes!"

It was still there, gnawing at him.

"No, no, no," Darcy muttered to himself. "Something's not right, something's off…."

He stood up and paced for a while in silence, his thoughts running away from him. It wasn't right, Catherine wasn't this complacent, it was as if… No, surely not. Surely not. But maybe.

He turned to look at Richard again and it was as if he was seeing his own reflection in his most trusted friends face. He was there to.

"You don't think…." Richard trailed off, his eyes showing the shock and surprise at the sudden possible realisation.

"You thinking what I'm thinking?" Darcy asked.

"God, I fucking think I am. But…. How?"

"How indeed."

"This means, well this means we're fucked. We don't stand a chance. There's no way…." Richard threw his hands in the air, a picture of shocked disappointment and fury.

It was then that Darcy did something unexpected.

He smiled.

"Au contraire, mon ami," he smirked. "Au contraire."

The game was on. And it was bigger than ever.

* * *

 _Slough, England, One Year and Eight Months Ago_ _…_ _._

 _He watched with the slight smile of only someone who knew something others didn_ _'_ _t as he observed the Bingley_ _'_ _s faces. The glances to him and each other that made it clear that they thought he had gone insane. He had just revealed Richard_ _'_ _s information to them and the plan. Or at least_ _'_ _the plan_ _'_ _._

" _You want to rig an entire Vegas casino?_ _"_ _Caroline said slowly, sarcasm dripping through every syllable._ _"_ _You_ _'_ _ve lost it, Will. You must know that_ _'_ _s impossible! Get to every slot, every table, every chip, every wheel, and then what? Just steal it all? Jesus Christ, it_ _'_ _s fucking madness!_ _"_

" _You want to rig a Vegas casino?_ _"_ _Charlie repeated his sisters words in complete shock._

 _Darcy smiled._

" _Well, yes and no_ _…_ _._ _"_

"Fuck do you mean, 'yes or no'," Caroline attacked. "It's a simple fucking question. You know what, forget this, I'm out."

She stood up to leave, taking one look at Darcy and then dismissing him with an eye roll and a frustrated sigh.

"Charlie, you coming?"

"She's right, Will," Charlie stood up as well. "You've really lost it. Richard?"

"Oh for fuck sake, sit down both of you," Richard grinned, bouncing up and down in his chair. "We're about to get to the good part!"

"The good part?" Caroline narrowed her eyes, pausing in her step.

"The good part," Darcy smiled at her. "Come on, Caro. I assure you, I have not gone insane, and I know that the grifter in you is screaming for you to stay and hear me out."

Caroline sighed loudly again and threw herself back down in her chair. Charlie did the same.

"Thank you. Now, where was I?" Darcy asked.

"The yes and no part." Caroline sneered slightly.

"Ah yes, of course." Darcy clapped his hands together, not in the least bit put out by her attitude. He had expected this after all. But now was time for the reveal, the rabbit, the rug pulled out.

"This is all information we have gained from Richard's sources," he pressed on. "It says that there was a robbery, that Billy Collins has been promoted to head of security, that they will be undertaking a security overhaul and it is being done in London. This is fact. Or at least, that is what we're supposed to think."

"I don't understand," Charlie furrowed his brow in confusion. "What do you mean, that's what we're supposed to think?"

"What he means, Charlie, is that we're the flies and Catherine is dangling the shit right in front of us." Richard attempted to elaborate.

"Well, that certainly makes things clearer, thank you, Colonel." Caroline said sarcastically.

"Ok, that was a shit metaphor, literally. See what I did there? Not even a smile, Jesus, tough crowd today. Darcy….."

"What we are saying is that she knows. In fact, she has known all along."

"Who knows? What does she know? Jesus my fucking brain is hurting." Charlie complained.

Darcy prepared to drop the bombshell as clearly as he could.

"I think that Catherine has known all along what I have been trying to do. I think she knows that I have been trying to take back Pemberley. I think that she has actively stopped this from happening every time we have attempted it. And now I think she has run out of patience and she is trying to trap us into thinking that all of Richard's information is true. She wants us to attempt this, she wants us to try to rig her machines, she even wants us to think we have been successful until the very last when she'll stop it and put us in prison. That is what I think. Clear enough for you?"

Stunned silence filled the room. If this was true, four of the greatest grifters in the world had been tricked for years. They had been fooled into thinking they were making progress, that it was just bad luck that had prevented them from achieving their aims. Only it turned out that there had always been someone a step ahead of them, someone who had known all along exactly what they were doing and had shut them down time and time again.

Lady Catherine De Bourgh.

"You have to give it to her," Richard chuckled after a while. "She did a right fucking number on us. I feel like a fucking idiot, truth be told."

"But… but ….. How?" Caroline stuttered, reminding Darcy of himself and Richard in his Pemberley office when the truth had first been discovered.

"Think about it, Caro," Darcy said gently. "Every time we've got close, we've been shut down. Remember the last time, when Richard's security hack was discovered at the last minute? We had no idea how that had happened, Richard maintains that the only way anyone could have discovered it is if they knew exactly what to look for and where to look for it. At the time, we couldn't understand it, but now? It makes sense, you know it! She knew what we were doing and she stopped it, it's the only logical explanation."

"If this is true," Charlie said slowly. "Why the hell didn't she have us put in prison? Let us do it and catch us?"

"Some residual affection for me, I believe," Darcy sighed. "Or at least, for the memory of my parents. Maybe she thought I was going through a phase, that I'd get older and come round to her way of thinking. I think that's what she hoped for. But now all that's gone. All that remains is a desire to see me punished for what I have done to her."

"I can't believe this." Caroline muttered.

"Don't you see though?" Darcy came to life. "This is it, our big chance!"

"How the fuck is this our chance?" Caroline raised her voice. "We need to stay as far away from her as possible, Will! How the hell can you con someone who knows they're being conned?"

"With great difficulty," Darcy conceded, before he regained his enthusiasm. "But she's made her mistake. She's played it perfectly so far, but now she's there for the taking!"

"Yep, definitely insane." Charlie said under his breath, but not so quietly that the others didn't hear. Caro nodded in agreement, Richard smiled and Darcy? Well Darcy just got even more excited. Never had the siblings seen him like his, indeed Richard had to go back to the dreaded 'George days' to remember his cousin this way. Of course in those days it was normally because of some new drug, but now it was the thought of the greatest grift of all that was propelling him.

"Maybe I am insane. But look, she's entered our game now. For years she sat back, let it play out until it went too far. And that worked, we had no idea. I was going to give up you know, I had resigned myself to the fact that I would never get Pemberley back. She'd won without even realising. How things change. Now she wants to try to con us? She wants to try and con _us_? Is she fucking kidding me? We're the best crew working today, we have the best roper, the best fixer, the best banker, the best inside men and woman. We've been doing this for years, grifting and grifting, playing more scores than we can remember. This is what we do and we do it so much better than anyone out there. And Catherine? Well, she's just changed the rules of her game. She thinks she can go toe to toe with us, she thinks she knows every move we're going to make, she thinks we're going to jump through her hoops all the way to prison. I want to prove to her how fucking wrong she is. We do not get conned. We con people. We win, they lose, end of. That is what happens, that is the natural order of things. And that's what is going to happen here. She wants to con _us_? No, we're going to prove once and for all how clever we all are. No-one out grifts us, no-one! She's in our game now, and that only ends one way for her."

Darcy finished his speech, eyes alive and hopeful as he looked at his crew. Richard was laughing at his passion, but the Bingley's were stoic. He couldn't do this without them. He just couldn't.

"I assume you at least have the semblance of a plan to go with all that chest beating?" Caroline sighed after a while, her tone resigned.

Darcy smiled. He had their attention. Now it was time to tell them exactly how they were going to do this.

"Ok, pop quiz, who can tell me the first principle of the con?" Darcy asked the room like a bad substitute teacher.

"Fucking hell," Caro groaned before trotting out the mantra. "You can't cheat an honest man."

"Incorrect!" Darcy shook his head. "No, the first principle, what everything is built on, the mechanics of everything we do. Everything is based on one thing and one thing only, that thing being….."

"Misdirection!" Charlie shouted a bit too loudly, a bit like the teachers pet, causing Caroline to send him a withering stare.

"Correct!" Darcy praised. "Misdirection, misdirection, misdirection. What every score is built on, right the way down to lifting a wallet. So, that is what we're going to do here."

"And just how are we going to do that?" Caroline asked. It was clear she was not the least bit enamoured with him at the moment.

"What we're going to do, my dear Caroline," Richard took over. "What we're going to do is play Catherine's game. We are going to jump through every hoop as Darcy put it. Make contact with Billy Collins, rig the machines. We're going to do everything she thinks we're going to do…."

"Only we're not," Caro finished for him, her voice slightly breathless. She was always sharp. "We're going to make it _look_ like that, aren't we? That's your plan. You want to make it _look_ like we're robbing her casino when we're actually not."

"Gold star, Bingley," Richard smirked. "Gold star indeed."

"I want to create the biggest misdirection of all time," Darcy elaborated excitedly. "Put on such a show that no-one will be able to see beyond it, see the game beyond the game."

"Which is?" Charlie asked.

"I'm going to get my home back."

* * *

 _The silence was unbearable for Darcy._

" _I suppose it could work_ _…_ _.._ _"_ _Charlie trailed off, unconvincingly._

" _I don_ _'_ _t know, Will_ _…_ _._ _"_ _Caroline frowned._

 _He gave them ten minutes to think about and went outside. Richard soon joined him and offered his support. And then_ _…_ _._

" _We can_ _'_ _t do it without the others_ _…_ _._ _"_ _he sighed._

" _I should hope not!_ _"_ _Charlie said jovially from behind him._ _"_ _So, where do we start?_ _"_

 _Darcy turned, the widest of smiles on his face._

" _One wrong move and we_ _'_ _re out, William,_ _"_ _Caroline warned._ _"_ _This is not a commitment. We will work it for a while, see if it_ _'_ _s possible, that_ _'_ _s it._ _"_

 _He nodded, but couldn_ _'_ _t stop smiling. Caro couldn_ _'_ _t help but grin back._

 _So it began._

"Ok, we need to plan this like any other score," Darcy got down to business. "If we're going to make Catherine believe that we are doing what she wants we need to make it as convincing as possible. So from now, we work this like we would any other score. Full backgrounds by the end of the month on Billy Collins and anyone relevant. Richard, Charlie, I want you two to stay in the country, work off anything that Caroline gives you."

"Where am I going?" Caroline asked.

" _We_ are going to Las Vegas," Darcy smirked. "You're going to get background on Billy Collins. Be subtle, but not too subtle if you catch my drift. We want Catherine to know that we're working Collins, but we don't want to be too obvious. At the same time, quietly look for an employee we can turn, someone in debt, with problems, someone we can leverage. This part has to be done secretly though, ok? You'll feed back information to Richard and Charlie, and they'll work it from there."

"You just fancy a vacation then, Darcy?" Charlie said.

"Oh no. I'm going to see an old friend. It's time to do something I should have done years ago…"

* * *

 _Lorenzi Park, Las Vegas, Nevada, USA, One Year and Five Months Ago_ _…_ _.._

Darcy closed his eyes as he leant back on the bench, letting the sounds of nature wash over him. He liked this place, a haven in this dreadful city. Him and Vegas had never seen eye to eye. He hated coming here, always had. Unfortunately, he had had to spend an inordinate amount of time here over the years. Family vacations to see his parents old friend Catherine when he was younger, and maintaining the connection after their death had been necessary. But he hated it. The garishness, the falseness, all of it. But here, in this corner, he felt peace at last. A peace that could only be dispelled by what was about to happen, what he was about to ask of one of the few people he actually cared about.

" _Okay_ ," Caroline's voice crackled through his earpiece, breaking his peace in half. " _She_ _'_ _s approaching now, no-one_ _'_ _s followed her, you_ _'_ _re clear_."

"Ok."

"Anne." he greeted warmly, not opening his eyes. Felt her sit next to him.

"Hello, Will." Anne De Bourgh acknowledged him in that shy and timid voice.

Now, Will Darcy could manipulate people. He was a master at it, he was a grifter after all. But he did feel bad for this one. Anne was his friend. But he was doing this for her. He didn't have to, but he needed to. For her.

"Why am I here, Will?" Anne asked. "Why didn't you just come and see me at Rosings? Why all this cloak and dagger stuff?"

"We came here when we were kids, do you remember?" Darcy ignored her question, gazing wistfully out onto the pond. "Me, you, Richard, my parents, your mother."

"I remember."

"It was the only time I've ever been happy in this city," Darcy sighed. "Even when I was a kid, I hated it. I hated flying all those miles, I hated Rosings Park, I hated your mother, and truth be told, I hated you as well."

"I know you did." Anne said sadly.

"And you now what, Anne?" he looked her dead in the eye for the first time. "Nothing's changed for me. I still hate all of it, the flying, Rosings, your mother, and you."

He pressed down the guilt at the hurt on her face. He had to do this.

"I hate what you are, Anne," he continued, sighing. "I hate what she's made you. All your life you've been controlled by her, belittled, pushed down and down and down. And you just fucking accept it. You just nod your head, say nothing, repeat, repeat, repeat. It's fucking tragic your life. You know that right?"

"Stop," Anne said quietly, tears beginning to well. "Just stop."

"Why, because I'm telling the truth? Darcy pressed, raising his voice. "You know it's true."

"Why are you doing this? You're supposed to be my friend!"

"I am your friend, and I'll always be your friend. And friends tell each other the truth. Tell me, Anne, how many friends do you have? The answer is two, me and Richard. You haven't been allowed to have any others, all because of her. And because of you. We can't blame her completely, you're a grown woman. You could have walked away from her, said that enough was enough, but you haven't. You've stayed, you've bowed and scraped, what were you hoping for? Some approval, a kind word here and there? It's no way to live! You're a fucking shell, Anne. A fucking shell…."

Silence descended. Could hear the wind whistle through the air, the laughter of children from nearby. He waited and waited.

He waited and waited.

"What do you want?" she finally asked coldly.

"I want you to break the fucking cycle, Anne," he grabbed her by the hand. "I want you to take control of your life. I'll help you, every step of the way, I'll be there. But you need to want to do this. You need to want to become the woman I know you could be."

A pause before Anne responded.

"What do I have to do?"

Half an hour later he stood up from the bench and walked away from his friend, the job done. It had been easier than he'd ever expected. She was ready, she'd been ready for a while, she just needed the push. Opened the van door and climbed in next to Caroline who uncharacteristically didn't say anything as she drove them off, no biting remark, no congratulations on a job well done. She'd been listening in on the conversation, had heard everything.

"What's wrong?" he asked after five minutes, the silence finally unnerving him.

"I don't know," she kept her eyes on the road, voice quiet. "She was right, I mean, she's your friend….. I dunno … I guess sometimes I forget what a cold bastard you can be….."

Shut his eyes.

So tired.

"We need to call Richard and get him on the next flight. It's time he paid Alice Kranski a visit."

* * *

 _Arrows Bar, Las Vegas, Nevada, USA, One Year Ago and Four Months Ago_ _…_ _._

"Fill her up." Richard Fitzwilliam instructed the barman, who obliged quickly, keen for the odd British man to continue tipping as he had been. Richard nodded gratefully and sipped at his whisky.

This was the kind of place where desperate men looked for desperate women, desperate women looked for desperate men, and everyone woke up in the morning with the same desperation still present. A place where hope was a byword for disappointment, where morals were left at the door, where loneliness couldn't be cured but perhaps could be temporarily forgotten. They came in droves. No tourists here though, no, this was strictly for the bottom of the rung. The Vegas workers who had come from all corners of the land to seek their dream, only to wake up years later, the wrong side of thirty, their looks disappearing due to the shitty jobs with the long hours that came with them, all of that childish hope gone. All that was left was an evening off a week spent in a shithole bar with two for one drink offers all night.

He glanced over to his mark again, making eye contact for the third time that evening and offering a small smirk. God he was good. Normally this would have been Charlie's role, he was the roper after all, but Richard had insisted. This had to be him. This flourish, this trick, it needed to be him. He wanted to be responsible for making Catherine feel like a total idiot. Could picture her face now as he stared back into his drink and smiled.

Was interrupted by a tap on his shoulder.

"Hi!" the slim thirtyish redhead introduced herself. God, this was going to be so easy.

"Hi yourself." he replied smoothly, could tell that his accent was already attracting her.

"I saw you looking at me." she said, boldly, inhibitions lowered due to the alcohol. "Thought I'd skip the waiting part."

"Did you now," he flashed her a grin. "And how do you know I was looking at you and not someone else?"

"Oh, I see," she laughed. "My mistake. I'll just go back over…."

She made to walk away, the smile plastered on her face. She knew what was coming and Richard wasn't going to disappoint her.

"Hey!" he touched her arm gently. "Now that you're here, I suppose I _could_ get you a drink…"

"You could, could you?" she mimicked his accent back at him, he hated it when people did that. "I suppose I _could_ be tempted…."

One hour and a couple of drinks later, she was giggling as Richard fumbled for the key to the motel room, and they staggered into the dark.

A light clicked on.

"Good evening, Alice." Caroline Bingley smirked from a chair next to the bed, her dark complexion dimly lit.

"What the fuck!" the woman exclaimed, shocked and suddenly scared. "Diego, what the hell is this?"

"Diego?" Caroline questioned humorously.

"A strong name." Richard defended with a chuckle of his own.

"I see there were no problems." Caroline nodded.

"None at all." Richard smirked.

"What the fuck is going on?" Alice shouted.

"Relax, Alice…" Caroline attempted to sooth.

"How the hell do you know my name? Who are you?"

The woman looked frightened, understandably so. She'd been picked up at a bar, taken back to a seedy motel and now a woman she didn't know was sat there telling her to relax.

"I'm not going to hurt you," Caroline said softly. "In fact, I want to offer you an opportunity of a lifetime."

"Diego, who the hell is she!"

"My name's not Diego, Alice," Richard said gently. "You're here because we need your help, and I think you might need ours."

"I don't understand…."

"Your name is Alice Kranski," Caroline recited mechanically. "Twenty nine year old single parent and Blackjack dealer at Rosings Park. Both parents dead, father of your son in prison, no family to speak of. And on last check you are now in $100,000 of debt. Threatening to take the house now aren't they…"

"What is this?" Alice backed up towards the door. Caroline and Richard made no move to stop her. They weren't complete monsters.

"A second chance, Alice," Caroline smiled broadly. "A second chance at life. A life where you never have to worry about money again, where you can live wherever you choose. Hell, you could even send your boy to a private school, not that I agree with that kind of thing. State education all the way…."

"I'm leaving." the redhead asserted and reached the door handle before Richard stopped her with a light touch causing her to flinch. He held his hands up in apology.

"Of course you may leave," Caroline nodded, before standing up and walking towards her. "But before you go, take this."

Picked up a handbag from the floor and handed it to the reluctant woman.

"There's ten thousand dollars in there," Caroline said lightly, ignoring the look of shock. "No strings attached, you can take it and never see us again. But if you want more, there is also a card inside with my number. Anytime, day or night, you can call me. I can make you rich, Alice, I can make all your dreams come true. The question is, what kind of life do you want? What kind of life do you want your son to have?"

Alice Kranski looked suspiciously between the two strangers, stunned at the turn of events. Reached behind her for the door handle, finding it, and backing out of the entrance. Turned and ran, hand clutching the bag. Richard and Caroline watched her go.

"Do you ever sometimes think we're terrible people?" Richard asked guiltily as he watched the woman run across the parking lot, obviously terrified.

"I don't think we are, I _know_ we are," Caroline patted him on the shoulder. "We're the bad guys, Colonel, however much you and Darcy try to dress it up."

"Yeah, I suppose we are," Richard frowned before shutting the door. "Ah well, fuck it!"

Moral crisis over seconds after it had began.

"Fucking _Diego,_ " Caroline snorted, settling back in her chair. "How the hell did she fall for that? You're the whitest fucker I know."

"Worked didn't it?" Richard grinned back. "You think she'll call?"

"Yes." Caroline dismissed the question as if the answer was obvious.

"How can you be sure?"

"She took the bag," Caroline sighed. "Why do they _always_ take the bag….?"

* * *

 _Slough, England, One Year and Two Months Ago_ _…_

 _From then on, things moved apace. They came up with the idea of getting in with the Bennet clan as a way to Collins, they spread the rumour that Darcy was retiring and the Bingley_ _'_ _s were coming to London to recruit a new crew, and they began to execute. All the while behind the scenes, they were working on the actual plan, the actions hidden behind all the smoke and mirrors. They were purposefully throwing misdirection after misdirection in the air, blurring the picture as much as they could, playing Catherine_ _'_ _s game and then some. Quietly, they worked out how they were going to win._

 _It was all going fine, well sort of, until Charlie had to go and ruin it by falling in love with Jane Bennet._

 _Darcy had cashed in his Ace. He had sent for The Italian to help him sort this mess out, pose as a police officer in an attempt to cast some doubt on Jane Bennet_ _'_ _s loyalty. Not a nice move but a necessary one. She had agreed and was about to leave, but it was time to ask one last favour._

" _Wait!_ _"_ _Darcy stopped her._ _"_ _There is one more thing_ _…"_

"How would you like a trip to Las Vegas?"

She cocked an eyebrow, inviting him to continue. So he did, he went through it all with her, the whole plan. She listened impassively, not giving away a flicker until after he'd finished. Appraised him with stern eyes.

"You are one reckless motherfucker, William."

"Thank you."

"It was not meant as a compliment."

"Yes it was." he smirked.

"Ok fine, it was, but fuck this is risky. Brilliant, close to genius, but risky," she frowned before turning to Richard and Caroline. "And you two are ok with this?"

"We trust our fearless leader." Caroline drawled sarcastically, she was the member of the crew who had the most doubts about the whole thing. Darcy was pleasantly surprised that she had stuck around….

"Sounds like it," The Italian laughed, clearly warming to Caroline. "But why are you going to all this trouble, William? You have made more money than you could spend in ten lifetimes, you could buy any casino outright on the planet. Monaco, Vegas, London, Shanghai, anywhere. Why risk it for a small place in Scotland?"

"Because it's not about the money," he replied seriously. "You know that better than anyone."

She looked at him curiously for a moment, as if trying to work out a puzzle.

"If only I'd met you a few years earlier, Darcy," she pondered wistfully. "In a different time, in a different life, me and you could have been unstoppable together….."

Richard and Caroline glanced at each other, aware they had been completely forgotten in this back and forth.

"It's never the right time though, is it?" Darcy smiled a small smile, full of the unspoken.

"Never." she sighed, perhaps the first crack he'd ever seen in her. She was so untouchable, so far beyond mere mortals, that it was almost unfathomable to him that she was still a human being. A human being full of the same desires as all us are, searching for something, some semblance of meaning. As he looked at her, he understood for the first time how crushingly lonely her existence must be. Felt a stab of pity, something that she saw in his face straight away as her impossible, magnificent mask went up again.

"Ok then," she clapped her hands together. "If this is really your last score, William, then I think it only right that I am a part of it. So, I'll speak to the Bennets, and then…..?"

"You're going to conduct the biggest orchestra of grifters ever assembled." Darcy revealed.

"Oh, do tell…"

* * *

 _Desert Hills Motel, Las Vegas, Nevada, USA, Nine Months Ago….._

This had always been his favourite part. The waiting. His wobble in the desert a few days ago had subsided and he was more determined than ever. They'd done everything right, everything was set up. They'd infiltrated the warehouses of Catherine's machines after they'd made their escape from the Bennet's and all the unforeseen complications they'd caused, in reality doing nothing to the tech. Made sure they'd left an obscure but not impossible trail of breadcrumbs for Catherine's people to follow and draw the conclusion that her Ladyships bait had been taken. All that had actually happened was that Richard and Caroline had broke in, sat down for five minutes then went away again without touching anything. The months rolled by, and now? Well now they were just waiting. Now, that perfect time period when everything was set, when everything could still go wrong, when the adrenaline was at its highest. Marvelled at the plan once again. The smokescreen, the misdirection's, all of it.

Waiting and waiting. They were either about to become legends or about to become footnotes. It was thrilling. He found himself sat with Charlie in his terrible, flea ridden motel room, sharing a cigarette in companionable silence. Caroline had gone to get some food and Darcy was just enjoying being away from Catherine and even Richard for a little while. It had been a long time since he and his friends had just sat there and talked, no work to be done, no moves to be made. Just friends who had been through more together than almost anyone else.

"What will you do?" Charlie asked him as he blew smoke rings out into the room. "When it's all over, when you've got what you want? I mean, grifting is our life isn't it? How the fuck can we be ordinary after all this?"

"We're all trying to get out of the game," Darcy chuckled but it was unconvincing. "You would too if you could think of anything else to do."

"I'm being serious, Will," Charlie said after laughing a little. "I can't imagine ever doing anything else."

"Nor can I," Darcy admitted. "I guess I'll cross that bridge when I come to it."

"You gonna be a hotel manager?" Charlie smirked.

"Maybe."

"You'll be bored within a week."

"Oh undoubtedly." Darcy nodded in agreement. "I did it for a year and I've never felt more dead inside."

Charlie laughed again and passed his cigarette to Darcy who accepted it gratefully.

"You need a plan, Will."

"The truth is, I don't want to think about it," Darcy admitted in a small voice. "What comes next I mean. All these years, running and running with you, running away from everything and everyone else. By next week I'll have run out of track and then what? What the hell am I going to do? I'm fucking terrified, Charlie. So fucking terrified of standing still. So fucking terrified of what I might find, of who I might find staring back at me in the mirror….."

He shut his eyes, calming himself. Snapped back to reality and painted a smile on his face.

"What about you, Charlie? You going to set up your own crew?"

"I've been thinking about that," Charlie blew his cheeks out, realising that Darcy didn't want to talk about his own future. "This whole score has got me thinking more and more. I fucked up, I know that. I fell for a mark. How can I be sure that that won't happen again? How can I be responsible for others when I can't even look after my own end? So be my pal, Darcy, and tell me, after all that do you think I'm ready to be a leader?"

Darcy remained silent for a while. He'd been having the same thoughts. Before this, he'd thought Charlie was ready to make the step up and lead his own team. He was one of the most naturally gifted grifters he'd ever met, he inspired confidence in everyone around him, he was an all round decent human being. Well, half decent. Maybe that was the problem. He was decent. Was it possible to be the best grifter you could be and a reasonably good person at the same time? The answer was no, of course not. And Charlie? Well, he just didn't quite have it, that edge that you had to have. And that was no slight, if anything it was a compliment.

"No." he answered simply.

"I agree." Charlie sighed.

"Have you ever thought about doing something else?" Darcy asked him after a while. "Seriously?"

"What the fuck would I do?" Charlie laughed. "Tell me, what's better than this? I meant what I said, how could you ever give this up? This is fucking _living_."

"It's hurt you though." Darcy mused, thinking about Jane Bennet.

"But that's just part of it, isn't it? Without this game, I'd never have met her, I'd never have fallen in love, I'd never have lost that love. I'd never have felt this bad. Life is highs and lows, pain and joy, and I've experienced all of it, heightened and heightened, crescendo after crescendo. To be a grifter is to fucking live _._ I've lived because of what we do, and I want to continue to do so, however much pain may be down the line. It's better than being numb is it not? And when I die, I will go safe in the knowledge that I lived life my way, no-one else's."

Darcy raised his glass.

"To grifting."

"To grifting."

They clinked glasses.

"What will you do then?" Darcy asked. "Find a new crew, work as a roper?"

"Maybe. But I was thinking… What do you think, Will? Do you think she's ready?"

He caught the drift straight away and he was surprised and slightly ashamed that he'd never really considered it before. Was she ready? Was Caroline Bingley leadership material? The selfish, often objectionable, judgemental, ruthless, intelligent, funny, beautiful woman, was she the answer? The one to pass the baton too? She'd been brilliant in this score and when he thought about it, she'd never been anything less in all their time together.

Just as he was musing, Caroline burst into the room.

"Right, they didn't have any pepperoni left so you ugly fuckers will have to settle for Hawaiian."

"You know what, Charlie," Darcy smiled. "I think she just might be."

"Might be what?" Caroline narrowed her eyes.

Before they could answer, the phone rang. They all looked at it and they knew. This was it. Darcy picked up.

"We go in two days." Richard said before clicking off.

Darcy smiled as he put the phone down.

"The day after tomorrow." he confirmed to the siblings.

"About fucking time." Caroline smirked.

* * *

 _Fontainebleau Resort, Las Vegas, USA, Nine months ago….._

Caroline took off her sunglasses and scratched at the blonde wig. A necessary but uncomfortable disguise. From the moment she'd touched down again in Vegas she'd been under surveillance by Catherine's people, they all had. That was fine, they'd expected it, even encouraged it. She and Charlie had been careful to keep a low profile, make it look as if they were hiding out, that they had no idea they were being watched. And they'd done it well. But this part, this part of the plan had relied on the fact that she could give them the slip, just for a couple of hours. It had been tough, she'd had to lose them without making it look like she was trying to. Had taken an afternoon. Now here she was in the abandoned hotel, one of the most expensive flops in Vegas history, standing in front of thirty or so people all with there eyes locked on her.

The grifters had come to town.

Around six months ago it had began. Darcy quietly began making the phone calls that would get all these people in the same place, the greatest cast of grifters ever assembled. Every favour was called in, every tactic used. And they came. They all came for the great William Darcy's last score. It hadn't taken much to persuade them to be a part of history, to work with and play a small part in the best crew in existence's final hurrah.

Over the last few weeks they had been trickling into the city some by plane, some by car, some by boat, all using false names and passports carefully assembled by Richard. Finally now they were all together. The anticipation in the air was thick, the excitement palpable. They were about to rob a Vegas casino. Like the boxer fighting in their sports Mecca for the first time, these nights are what they lived for, what every grifter dreamt of.

They were going to pull off the most brazen and audacious misdirection ever attempted.

To go through all the names present would take too long, but a the names of tonights 'team leaders' as it were could paint the picture of just how good these people were at being dishonest. Standing towards the back was Scottish Nick, a Frenchman who got his nickname from his first big con in which he had sold Edinburgh Castle to a group of American businessmen. Not content with the million he took off them, he went back the next week and charged them forty grand to install double glazing just because he could. He epitomised the saying 'It's not about the money', he did this for the thrill of it. Off to the side and slightly removed was Cassie Black, tapped up by Darcy at the Poker game back in London all those months ago. Cassie was a master of disguise, had made her name working the 'hot prowl' in the early noughties, a scheme that involved waiting for someone to win big at a casino, cash out and go to bed, before slipping into their hotel suite whilst they were sleeping and crack the safe. It was the most dangerous game around and had claimed many lives, but Cassie was too good to be caught. Nowadays she worked as the inside woman in her own high end crew based in Toronto, but Vegas was her home from home, she knew this city like no other. Fidgeting at the front was a nervous looking woman who's countenance belied what she did. 'Dozen Iron' Jessie, a long con legend who's cool out technique was as famous as it was dangerous. The cool out is the key part of the grift, the stage where you have to make sure the mark can never come after you. Most used the threat of legal repercussions or exposure to their families, but Jessie went for the more nuclear approach. Every single score would end with her getting shot. She'd tape blood bags to her body and have a so far unseen member of her crew burst in at the last pretending to be an irate previous mark and shoot her. She'd press the switch, the bag would burst and she'd lie in a pool of blood, seemingly dead. It took such guts. The list went on, Ricky Rock, Samba Ngolou, Katie Spades, Li Tin and more, the best in the world. And Caroline Bingley was in front of them.

Couldn't help but feel slightly nervous, despite the fact she knew she belonged in this class of criminal, that they respected her almost as much as Darcy himself. Wished that Louisa and Hurst could have been here, but Lizzy Bennet's appearance had put paid to that, couldn't risk her recognizing them. Cassie and The Italian were calculated risks, both could change their appearance at will and were unlikely to be recognized, particularly as Richard had made sure that Lizzy would be atrociously hungover today, taking her out to XS last night. Hopefully, The Italian's disguise would be enough to fool Charlie as well and he wouldn't recognize her from when she'd played D.I Zampino in their photos that had persuade him to ditch Jane Bennet. They'd kept him at arms length from her, Darcy telling him he had The Italian on his side but she wasn't to be seen by anyone until the go. But now, job to do.

Job to do.

"Ok, thank you all for coming," she raised her voice above the whispering, attention on her straight away. "I speak for Darcy on this, he is very grateful. We know you have your own shit going on, some of you have even dropped scores to be here tonight. That means a lot."

"Wouldn't miss it for the world!" Katie grinned to nods of agreement.

"It's going to be quite the night," Caroline smiled back. "I trust we all know what we're doing?"

Nods of the affirmative.

"Good. We stagger the entrances just like we planned. Each group of you has the transport mapped out to Rosings. You trickle into the Casino over the next few hours. When it's time, the signal will be given…"

"Which is?" Jessie piped up, ringing her hands together. "We still don't know…."

"And you won't know until it happens," Caro said sternly. "But when it is time, trust me you'll know. One of you will be approached and given the directions, then you'll move into position. Remember you need to screen as much as you can."

"We're ready." Scottish Nick reassured her.

"I know. Ok then, I need to get back. Remember, stagger the entrances, screen what you can and get out as soon as the lights go off. No hanging around in the city, go straight back home and burn the identities. Understand?"

More nods.

"Alright. It's gonna be a good night, ladies and gentleman. A good night indeed…."

* * *

 _Rosings Park, Las Vegas, USA, Nine Months Ago….._

She walked across the casino floor having been relieved of her duties for her half an hour break, mind whirring and whirring, rusty cogs scraping.

She'd done some stupid things in her time. Moving to Las Vegas, getting pregnant by some deadbeat drug dealer with an empty smile, letting the debts pile up and pile up. But this? This was surely the winner. This was Alice Kranski's descent into madness. What the hell was she doing?

She was either about to become a millionaire or a number on a jumpsuit.

Her son was either going to grow up with everything or grow up with even less than he already had.

Was it worth the risk?

It was the question that had been sloshing round and round in her washing up bowl of a mind over the last few months, ever since she' met those British people with their charm and their money and their manipulations. They'd known everything about her, every single thing, which buttons to press, which weaknesses to probe and prod. And they had the biggest incentive of all. Money. Lots of fucking money. Hadn't taken her long to cave after their first encounter, the seduction and then the sting. Held out barely a month before she called. Ten thousand dollars only went so far, especially in her situation. All it did was delay. Suspected that was no accident, suspected that the Brits had calculated it all.

She'd seen them sporadically over the past few months, but things had picked up the pace over the last week until it was finally time to go. She was told the plan just a week ago, meeting that Scottish man whom she'd found charming enough to fall for his targeted patter so much so that she was willing, even eager to sleep with him, outside The Bellagio, brazenly being led into the hotel for all to see. Was that right? If she was really going to do this, shouldn't they be taking some precautions? She knew very little about professional thieves or whatever these people were, but surely this type of thing was done out of sight, not in the middle of the day for everyone to see. Winded up in a hotel suite with another man, serious and quiet but who nevertheless exuded authority. No sign of the smirking woman who she'd previously assumed to be the leader until meeting this new character. She was horribly intimidated. They took pains to try to make her at ease, offering her a drink, keeping their distance, but she was still in a hotel room with two men who were strangers, one who had already violated her trust.

And now it was time.

It was like she was in a dream, this couldn't really be happening. She wasn't walking through the employees lounge, taking the elevator down to the basement. Didn't duck into the empty room, find the bag that was waiting for her, take off her uniform and replace it with a maintenance one. She wasn't being waved through by security like they said she would be. She wasn't entering the server room, again waved through. No way did she bend down and attach the device to the red wire. Couldn't have walked back out of that room, offering a smile to the guard, throwing off a comment about how she'd need someone higher up to come take a look. And surely, _surely_ , she didn't go back to work as if nothing had happened.

But she did.

And she waited for the lights to go out….

* * *

 _Room 1176, Rosings Park, Las Vegas, USA, Nine Months Ago…._

"We're in!" Richard exclaimed excitedly, tapping away at his keyboard in the room they had broken into to execute the plan.

"Good," Darcy breathed out in relief, leaning over his cousins shoulder. "Show me the CCTV."

A couple of clicks and they had the feed up.

"And you're sure this can't be traced?" Darcy asked.

"Fucking hell, Darcy," Richard replied in annoyance. "How many times have we been over this? The piggyback's untraceable and the trojan will replace it on these devices with something else entirely. Another little joke at Catherine's expense…"

"But what about the system hack itself, changing the payouts…"

"Oh my fucking lord!" Richard span round in his chair to face his cousin. "Darcy, stop it! Unless anyone stumbles into the server room and happens to pick the one in a thousand wires the miniscule device is attached to, which is about as likely as you getting laid anytime soon, then it'll be fine. And it's been tested on every conceivable system hundreds of times. How many times do you think it failed?"

"None." Darcy admitted.

"Exactly, I'm a genius, now get off my fucking back!"

"Well, they do say PathSafe is unhackable…" Charlie stirred the pot.

"Really not helping, Charlie," Richard sneered, turning back to his codes. "It's not that PathSafe is unhackable, it's just impossible to cheat once you're in. But we're not actually cheating, or at least not cheating in their definition of cheating. I'm just adding a few zeros onto certain wins…."

"And how is that not cheating?"

"Shut the fuck up!" Richard explained, tapping away furiously. "It's a workaround, Charlie, a trick, what all hackers do. Now, can I please get on with my job? You know, the job that's made us all millionaires?"

"Fine, fine." Darcy held his hands up and walked away from the screens.

"What's the time?" Charlie asked, a hint of worry.

"Almost time. She'll be here soon….."

* * *

 _Entrance Lobby, Rosings Park, Las Vegas, USA, Nine Months Ago…._

Caroline sipped on her coffee, one of those awful take out blends, blonde wig and sunglasses still adorned. Was sat on a chair, pretending to idly flick through a magazine as she drank, but her eyes were constantly on the door. Could feel that she was being watched, Catherine's team had picked her back up as soon as she entered the casino. That was fine, even good. This was where she wanted their attention.

All on her.

Not on the thirty wanted criminals currently converging on Rosings Park, arriving in their designated teams right on cue. Snorted slightly at Scottish Nick's choice of Hawaiian shirt, the cliché of the French being the most fashionable people in the world wholly put to bed. But it fit. It was a good cover. No doubt he'd have a Texan accent to go with it. Finally the last team entered, led by Cassie who already looked completely different to a few hours ago.

She got up, feeling the eyes follow her, walked up to the elevator and got in, heading to the room where they were going to do this. Arrived soon after.

 _Caroline rushed into the room, her blonde wig and sunglasses making her almost unrecognizable._

" _Is it done?" Darcy asked._

" _It's done, she affirmed. "That's the last of them. This better work, William…."_

" _When have I ever let you down?"_

They waited, Darcy giving a somewhat sentimental speech which Richard had called him out on. And then, finally….

" _We're on," Richard broke the silence. "Slot's, machine number 221 is a go, paying out $67,000 now."_

 _Darcy looked at the monitor and saw the woman who had won, the look of elation, of surprise._

This was the starter. You see, slots paid out most nights in casino's and it wasn't too difficult for someone with Richard's talent to predict when the next reasonably big win would come. It was all just probabilities. So they'd taken an educated gamble. The win was clean, they were just going to tell Catherine that it wasn't, make her think they'd rigged it when in fact they'd done nothing but predicted and waited.

Just another misdirection.

" _Go! Well done Richard good start," Darcy nodded. "Where's Catherine?"_

" _Roulette Wheel 19, talking to one Lizzy Bennet._

 _Darcy put her out her out of his mind. No distractions, this was it._

* * *

 _Casino Floor, Rosings Park, Las Vegas, USA…._

The Italian waltzed her way gracefully around the casino, making sure to keep tabs on everyone, waiting for the signal. Had been circling the floor for a while now, occasionally placing a few small bets, nothing to draw attention though and always with her eyes firmly fixed on the prize. Marvelled again at his plan. It turned out Will Darcy still had some surprises left in him. This plan was verging on insanity, teetering on the edge of inspired genius. Who'd have thought it when she'd first met him in Krakow all those years ago that this would be where they'd end up. Pretending to rob a Vegas casino. A fitting end. She was happy it had turned out this way, but she was even happier with the knowledge that she'd have no problem slipping away if it went wrong. She had three different escape routes that Darcy was unaware of, it was how she worked. Always careful, always considered, always the smartest person in the room.

" _Ok, let_ _'_ _s put it closer to home_ ," Darcy's voice crackled through The Italian's earpiece. " _Roulette Wheel 20, do your stuff_."

Rolled her eyes. 'Do your stuff', honestly. Put any man in this sort of situation and he couldn't help but come out with the clichés. Problem with heists, she chuckled inwardly, people (ie men) always got overexcited, thought they were fucking George Clooney or Brad Pitt.

Walked straight past Lady Catherine and Elizabeth Bennet again. She'd done the same earlier, hadn't been able to resist getting a look at the woman they were about to 'rob'. This time, she remained unseen, but the time before she had felt Catherine's eyes on her, judging her. Not Lizzy Bennet's though, that woman wasn't half as good as she thought she was. But Catherine, what a ridiculous woman. Despite this, she admired the old crone a little, it took a lot to be successful in this city, took even more if you were a woman. And now she was about to be 'robbed' by she, The Italian, there was no greater honour perversely. No greater yardstick by which to judge your importance.

Scottish Nick's team weren't far away, they were milling around the wheels. Fuck, what the hell was he wearing though? Shook herself and drew her attention away from that monstrosity of an outfit and sidled over, tripping and falling into him, clutching his arm for support.

"Are you ok?" the Frenchman looked down on her concerned in a passable Texan accent.

"So sorry," she replied breathlessly before she lowered her tone to a murmur. "The Colonel recommends Wheel 20."

And then she was gone.

* * *

Scottish Nick took no time to action the signal, didn't waste his time trying to figure out just who the mysterious woman was despite his curiosity. He had his suspicions, rumours of Darcy's relationship with a certain grifting legend had been whispered of, but he knew it was none of his business. He had a job to do, a reputation to uphold and even enhance. To be part of this elite group, handpicked by one of the greatest grifters of all time was something you didn't take lightly.

"Damn!" he called out obnoxiously in his Texan accent, signalling to his team of ten that was nearby, some pretending to be with his party, some just bystanders. "This table ain't playing with me tonight! What say we move over?"

"Roulette still?" he was asked by his longtime associate.

"Oh yeah!" he exclaimed. "I ain't done with this baby yet!"

He led them over to Wheel 20 and barged his way to the front, his crew taking up their positions to cover various viewpoints. Key was to block Lady Catherine's view of the table, screen as much as they could.

This was it.

He and two others from his team placed the bets. A small amount on a third each. One of them was going to win, that was important.

The spin came, the ball clattered.

Nick had won.

This was it.

He cheered uproariously, as did the rest of them, all wildly celebrating as if they'd won millions as opposed to the very minor amount they actually had. They hugged and kissed, laughed and shouted, causing confusion on the croupiers account. Nick made some offhand comment to him, saying they'd been bleeding chips all night and that all the celebrations were an ironic joke. It seemed to placate him. They continued on in this fashion for a while, making sure to block Catherine's and any other important security's view with their bodies. They had to think someone had just won big. Eventually they began to drift away, job done, waiting for the lights to go out…..

* * *

A few minutes later, The Italian smirked as the cheers went up from the Blackjack table. Watched as the news began to filter through to security and the picnic began to mount. It was working. This insane plan was actually fucking working. Moved across the room, glancing again at Catherine who now had a phone glued to her ear, frowning away. Gave the signal to the final team led by Cassie and prepared to make her exit. Her part was done. She couldn't believe it, this ridiculous, beyond audacious misdirection was being pulled off. Here's how it worked, Richard had hacked into the Rosings system, adding zeros on to every small win the teams had facilitated by simply packing the tables and playing the averages. On the computer in the main hub, the false win would come up. The security, Catherine, they all thought that someone had just won $100,000, when in fact it was just $100. Just adding zeros onto a computer. All the cheering, the celebrating, just the first of many misdirections. All piled on top of each other, so elegantly, so simply. The simple cons are the best.

Of course, there was still a long way to go, still a lot to be done. Not by her though. Went up to the bar, ordered herself a martini. Two minutes later the lights went out and they all slipped away into the night, as if they'd never been there.

It was now up to them, the four friends who had carved themselves into grifting folklore. And it would end how it should, with William Darcy and Lady Catherine De Bourgh talking alone in a room.

* * *

 _Rosings Park, Las Vegas, Nevada, USA, Nine Months Ago…._

" _I_ _'_ _ll get straight on it._ _"_ _Anne said breathlessly before rushing out the room._

Slowed her pace to a brisk walk as she moved down the corridors, about to do what she should have done years ago. Or maybe she shouldn't have. Was this the right thing to do? Betraying her own mother like this? Couldn't she just have walked away, apologised and said she needed to finally fly the nest? No, that had never been an option, had never been a possible hand to play. Her mother would never have allowed it. This was the only way, Darcy had helped her see that. So now here she was, about to aid and abet a criminal gang. Could go to prison. But wasn't she already in one? Already serving a life sentence? Never allowed to go to school, never allowed to have friends, even University had been done online from home. The best years of her life, all gone. All given away to her mother.

It was time to reclaim some.

Made it to the security hub in quick time, only pausing for one deep breath. She was in this now, fully and completely. No backing out.

"Jerry," she called to the head of the privately hired team. "You been watching the interrogation room feed? Message from my mother. All CCTV needs to be wiped from the interrogation room, and from in here."

"Yeah, I know." he replied wearily, frustration in his voice.

"I know, I know," she held up her hands. "It's her own fault. She's insisting on talking to them all, trying to get a confession before calling the police."

"It's just stupid." he sighed.

"Yeah," she nodded, the right tone of exasperation evident. "Bu you see, when she does call the police and the CCTV shows us holding them without calling them for hours then Darcy will have a readymade defence in court. Could even be enough to get the bastard off."

"Alright, fine," Jerry shrugged. "But why from in here?"

"You heard of entrapment, Jerry?" Anne asked, innocently. "You really want the police to know that we set this whole thing up so they'd get caught?"

"This job," Jerry moaned. "You ain't paying me half as well as you should for this shit."

"Get it done. All of it, no backups, we can't take the risk." Anne ignored him, looking expectant.

"Fine, fine."

"Good. Now, I've got to get back before she does anything else that could get us arrested."

Heard Jerry's snort as she walked back the way she came. Closed the door behind her and leant against it, allowing herself a brief moment to compose herself. Part one was done. Now it was time to truly stick the knife in the back.

Made her way back and lingered outside the room, mobile pressed against her ear. She'd left another one under her chair in the room so she could listen in and hear when Caroline was about to pretend to break.

" _Do you know who he is? How powerful he is? If I speak, I_ _'_ _ll be hounded for the rest of my life, always looking over my shoulder_ _…_ _.._ _"_

There was the signal. Moved into room.

"Mother, the paperwork's ready, just need your autograph." she bustled in, heart beating, chest pounding.

"Not now, Anne!" her mother shouted. "She's about to give them all up!"

"Now, mother!" Anne asserted. She tapped twice on the glass, causing the interrogation to stop, much to everyone's annoyance. "I will not let your victory be tainted because you would not observe the correct practice!"

Saw her mother appear to way something up as she looked coldly at her. For a moment she thought the game was up, that she'd been found out. But then she finally broke out into a broad smile.

"It is _our_ victory, darling! You have done me so proud tonight, Anne my dear."

Don't let it get to you, Anne thought, steeling herself. She'd chased this kind of approval for so long, a misguided way to live. Don't buckle now.

She produced the four documents. They weren't holding forms, they weren't anything. All except one. One deed, the third one that her mother would sign. The deed to Pemberley. Her mother was about o give William Darcy his casino back.

"I'm glad," Anne managed to grin, playing the grateful daughter. "Now just sign on the bottom here, all four of them. This should give us everything we need. They're going down mother! All of them!"

Her mother nodded and signed her name on all of them. Time seemed to slow as she went through them one by one, not even looking at them. That had been the idea. Play of her trust in her, her meekness, never would her daughter do anything dishonest to her.

And it had worked.

"Ok, I'll get these along to legal," Anne said. "But you need to call the police within the hour. And don't forget the CCTV in here has to go. No keeping secret copies to gloat over, it's too risky…."

Reinforcement. Knew Jerry was listening from the hub, knew that hearing that would give him the kick he needed if he hadn't already actioned her request.

"You truly are my daughter!" her mother roared in laughter. "Such insolence, do you see, Miss Bennet? I think I have a new candidate to take over Pemberley for me…."

"We're not done yet," Anne warned, willing herself to act normal, to not run away and make it obvious. "No mistakes."

"Don't worry, Anne. Miss Bouzid is about to give it all up."

"That'll certainly make it easier in court," Anne nodded calmly, but inside she was buring up. She needed to get out of there. "Ok, I'll run these down to legal."

Remembered to rap on the glass to allow the interrogation to continue and caught a brief glimpse of Caroline Bouzid, and was sure she saw her give a slight nod.

She'd done it.

Holding the deeds to Pemberley, she walked as calmly as she could out of the room, ready for her life to finally begin.

* * *

 _Rosings Park, Las Vegas, Nevada, USA, Nine Months Ago_ _…_ _.._

" _My own daughter, William? Really?_ _"_

They stared at each other, neither giving an inch. These two people, an old woman and a young man, thrown together by a friendship that had long since died, a relationship that both hadn't wanted to continue but had been forced to for the most differing of reasons. On one side, a man scorned with dented pride, the righteous anger of the young on his side, unwavering in his belief that he had been wronged and relentless in his pursuit of his twisted justice. On the other, a difficult and often unpleasant woman, reluctantly compelled by the constraints of her love for her best friends to stick around and watch him grow up, hoping against hope that the potential she knew was within him would finally burst forth and turn him into something his parents would be proud of.

Neither were right, neither were wrong.

Somewhere in the deeper reaches of their minds they knew that but they would never admit it.

And anyway, there was still work to be done.

"How did you know?" Catherine asked him. She thought she'd played it perfectly, but it turned out she was the one being strung along. It wasn't over yet though….

"You got arrogant, Aunt," Darcy smiled coldly. "Underestimated me. You tried to take me on at my own game. Do you know how many people I've taken money from? I'm the best long con player of my generation, do you think I can't spot a honey trap a mile off? Billy Collins, I ask you….."

"Hiring Billy Collins and overreacting to a minor take is exactly something your idea of me would do, isn't it? I know what you think of me, Will, I've known for years. 'The mad old woman's lost it', I thought it would fit perfectly with your misguided narrative. Thought you'd rush to believe the worst of me."

"You think I think so little of you?" Darcy raised his eyebrows. "Just because I don't like you doesn't mean I can't appreciate some of your qualities. And stupid and impulsive you have never been. No, it was too out of character. I wanted to believe it, I really did, but I couldn't, it didn't fit. From then on it was a case of figuring out just what you had been doing. Stopping me in my tracks every time. Genius. You are one of the very few people alive who have been able to complete blindside me, and you did it for years."

"'One of the only few people alive' ….. and I'm the arrogant one am I …" Catherine rolled her eyes.

"I'm just telling the truth," Darcy shrugged. "Why did you try it? Why the hell did you try to force it? You could have just waited, waited for me to try again and then finally put me in prison instead of quietly shutting me down and pretending like nothing had happened. But no, you were so sure of yourself, so sure that we were nothing but scum who preyed on the weak and stupid, so sure that you were so much more intelligent. You weren't. You aren't. You played my game and you lost."

"But have I?" Catherine narrowed her eyes, finally pouncing. "Have I really lost? I've seen nothing here today that cannot be undone."

"How so?" Darcy frowned.

"Do you know anything about contract law?" she asked condescendingly. "What, you think because I signed over a deed, however genuine, that that's the end of it? A couple of signatures and you now own Pemberley again? We're not in the 19th century, William. There's checks and balances. It has to go through the board for a start, not to mention the coercion involved. I might not be able to send you down for as long as I'd hoped, but you'll still do time for it. God, what was my daughter thinking?"

Darcy shut his eyes tight, leaning back in his chair, collecting himself for the last push.

"You still don't get it." he sighed.

"What do you mean?" she asked sharply. "I think it's you who's deluded here."

"After all this, you still think you're smarter than me, you're still underestimating me. I put that Blackjack dealer we turned right in front of you on purpose, you know, Richard paraded her around and still you didn't see it. I knew this would happen. I knew you'd ignore it as it wasn't part of your game. Knew you'd still think you were smarter than me." he laughed softly, eyes still closed.

"You're proving me right." Catherine asserted, but the unease was creeping in.

"Allow me to prove you wrong," he leant forward, opening his eyes and smirking. "The papers you signed, they were a flourish. A symbol if you will. Completely and utterly worthless. I did that bit just because I could."

"What are you talking about?" Catherine spat, thoroughly confused.

"There were no contracts, keep up!" Darcy snapped his fingers, a hint of impatience showing. "That part was all for Anne, to get her away from you."

"But ….. then, what have you achieved here? You've won no money, no contract..." Catherine stuttered.

"All of it, every single piece of it, was just so I could get here with you in this room, just you and me. The wins, your daughter, all of it. Because I'm going to walk out of here in five minutes and you're going to let me. And then tomorrow you are going to set things in motion for the handover. I expect to have Pemberley back within the month….."

"You're insane!" Catherine interrupted with a shout. "What are you talking about? Give you back Pemberley?"

"Of course," Darcy said simply. "I mean you don't _have_ to per se, but I think you will…"

"Insane." she repeated in a whisper.

"No, just a grifter," Darcy corrected. "If you want to then by all means arrest me, hand me over to the police and give them everything you have. Which is very little by the way, considering your daughter did us the kind favour of relieving you of your CCTV. And before you protest that everything is backed up, don't forget that I also have Richard Fitzwilliam on my side, a man who has already made you look like a fool once tonight. Do you really want that to happen twice? But anyway, if that doesn't dissuade you then carry on, tell the cops what has happened here tonight. However, be prepared to deal with the consequences of that. The Gaming Commission will be called in and I know enough about this city and the hoteliers who run it that that sentence is possibly the worst they could ever hear."

"I have nothing to hide." Catherine attempted to dismiss.

"Over half a century in _this_ business and there's nothing?" Darcy raised his brow quizzically. "Come on, Catherine, don't be so ridiculous. The last thing you want is for the Commission to come poking around."

"I could take the chance."

"You could," Darcy nodded. "Indeed, maybe you will. But before you do, stop and think because there will be other consequences to you turning me in. Tonight, I made it look like your casino was being robbed when it actually wasn't and you believed it. Think about that for a moment. How ridiculous is it when put simply? I've made a fool out of you, and your daughter helped me. Everyone will know, I'll make sure of that. The press, the board, the competition. Lady Catherine De Bourgh, the Queen of Las Vegas, running around like a demented old crow, seeing things that weren't there, so utterly paranoid that someone was stealing from her when it fact nothing happened at all. Quite the embarrassment I'd say. What will your competitors make of that, what will your partners make of it? This is Las Vegas, the most unforgiving city in the world. You live and die by your reputation out here. One wrong move and they'll come, vultures swooping in from the skyscrapers, destroying you and everything you have. If this story gets out, well, I doubt you'll ever recover from it. Careers in this city have been burned on so much less. Remember Jimmy Flores, Thomas Hull? You'll be a laughing stock. You were tricked into thinking your casino was being robbed when it _wasn_ _'_ _t_? Jesus. ' _It_ _'_ _s just Lady Catherine_ ' they'll say, ' _She used to be the Queen until she lost it completely. Quite mad indeed nowadays._ ' So you see, if you don't sign Pemberley over to me, you'll be finished. Completely spent. Everyone in this city will know what has happened, or indeed what has not happened, and it'll be game over. Your reputation in tatters. You'll lose Rosings, no doubt. You'll lose everything, unless…."

"Unless I give you Pemberley." she sighed, the defeat finally there.

He'd done it.

"Such a clever boy," Catherine said after a while, her voice small and tired.

Darcy leant back in his chair again, only this time the pose was different. It was the pose of a winner. He saw the defeat in her eyes. He'd done it. She'd been beaten and she knew it.

"Such a clever boy," Catherine repeated, but this time there was no praise meant and her eyes became steel, her voice recovering that trademark strength. "All your tricks and illusions, all your little mind games. But tell me, William, what is the point of it all? This grifting thing you do? Has it made you happy? Have you been trying to prove something? Change the world? Or is it in fact something all the more tragic? All these flourishes, all these games you play, they're all just distractions aren't they? Designed so no-one can see just how _boring_ you truly are."

"Boring?" Darcy narrowed his eyes. "Grifters may be many things, but boring is not one of them. To be a grifter is to live, live your own way and no-one elses…."

"Maybe it is for some," Catherine interrupted.. "But not for you. The poor little rich boy who so desperately wanted to throw away his future in a fit of self pity, but his inherent privilege would never let him do so. Oh how that must of hurt, aristocracy never leaves you however much you may try to shed it. So, when that didn't work he came up with a new narrative. Imagining himself as some kind of outlaw, as some kind of tragically poetic figure. I bet you think they could write stories about you don't you? The young man who lost his parents, drowned himself in sorrow, alcohol and drugs, before he turned his life around by becoming a criminal with morals. What a story indeed!"

Catherine leaned closer to him.

"But you see, William, it's a story that's been told a million times. It's fucking boring. You're just a petulant child who threw their toys out of the pram when they couldn't get what they wanted. That's it, nothing more. And now you have what you want, now you are victorious, your self righteousness has won the day. I congratulate you, nephew."

"Pemberley was never yours," Darcy said through gritted teeth, trying not to show how much her words were affecting him. "It was my families, mine and Georgiana's…"

"There it is again!" Catherine cut across him with a laugh. "That wilful and ignorant twisting of it all. Nothing is ever anyone's until they earn it. Do you think you've earned it, William? Shall we ask your sister?"

"Don't speak about her!"

"You brought her up," Catherine held her hands up, a glint in her eye. "Do you think this will fix things with her? It's just a plaster, William, papering over all those scars. You abandoned her to be who you are and now you use her as a justification? You don't care about her, you don't care about anybody but yourself. Even taking back Pemberley, your most 'righteous' mission, how many people have you trampled into the dirt to do so? How many lives have you stepped on? People are nothing but tools to you, stupid creatures to manipulate to your own end. You turned a daughter against her own mother, what just because you _could_? Are those the actions of a good man? A just and righteous man?"

"I did it to help her, she's better off without you," Darcy snapped. "Mother of the year you certainly are not."

"I did the best with what I have," Catherine shrugged. "I do not pretend to be any less flawed than every one else. I am who I am, I have accepted that. But you? You can't do it can you? You can't reach past all that blinding anger that's buried within you, that misplaced anger. 'The world owes me something' attitude, that's what I can't stand about you. It's Just. So. Boring.

Darcy said nothing, the words pricking him like tiny knives, stabbing and stabbing away.

"You know its true. You're a boring little man, such a spectacular cliché, a coward who runs away, who believes with every scheme he is adding another chapter to his quasi heroic tale. Well, I've got news for you, something I believe you know deep down,"

She leaned in even closer, lowering her voice to a whisper.

"You're not the good guy in this story, William. In fact, it's quite the opposite."

He knew.

"Now, I've wasted enough of my time on you," Catherine stood up, dismissing him. "You are free to go, go back to Pemberley, I won't try to stop you. I'll set things in motion, to be honest I'm glad to be rid of you. But know this, my dear nephew, if you carry on like this, you're going to remain so _terrifically_ alone and unhappy until the day you die. And you'll bloody deserve it."

She swept regally out the room and even though the facts said that William Darcy had beaten her, he had outthought her, he had taken back what was his, in that moment sat on the uncomfortable wooden chair, he felt further from a winner than he ever had before.

* * *

 _Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York, USA, Three Days Later…_

"An art gallery, William?" The Italian sat down next to him on the bench in front of an absurdist sculpture. "Must we be so cliché in our clandestine meetings?"

He laughed softly.

"I've recently been reliably informed that my whole life is one big cliché." he replied, eyes fixed on the sculpture, a slight crease in his forehead.

"What, someone had to tell you?" The Italian chuckled. "For someone so perceptive you have a remarkable lack of self awareness."

"Maybe you're right." he admitted quietly.

"Of course I am, it's what I do. Anyway, you have something for me?"

Darcy reached into his jacket pocket and produced the letter, handing it over.

"To be delivered to Elizabeth Bennet. Thank you for doing this."

"No worries," she waved him off. "I'm stopping off in London anyway, rumour has it the Panthers are about to hit Mayfair again, can't let those Serbians have all the fun…"

"Rumour or fact?"

She just smirked and waved the letter.

"What's in this anyway?" she asked.

"Me," he sighed. "Just me. Me in all my contradictions, all my justifications. I'm not even sure if I believe half the things I wrote to her. But I'm too tired, I just want this to be over."

She frowned at him.

"I must admit, I expected something quite different. You won yet you sit here as if defeated. Tell me, how does it feel, Will? The proud owner of Pemberley. How does it feel to finally get what you've wanted for so long?"

He paused and weighed her question. How did he feel? Searched and searched for something, some change within himself, anything. But he couldn't find it. There was nothing there. Now that the adrenaline and initial euphoria had worn off, it was just the same. The same feelings of self loathing, loneliness and something else too, something he'd never been able to put his finger on until now. Something his Aunt had fired at him, a seemingly minor point in her tirade, but the thing that had hit him hardest. Perhaps the thing that had driven him all these years, that had made him who he was.

"It's funny, you know," he said quietly after a while. "All these long years trying to figure out who I am. What I am I know, I have always embraced that, how could I not? But it's in the why, that's where the problem lies. Why am I like this? And now I think I may have finally found the answer. But… Shit, I don't know. I guess….

He closed his eyes.

"I guess…. well I guess I never thought of myself as a particularly angry person….."

There was a beat of silence before The Italian laughed loud and long.

"Oh, William," she wiped her eye with hints of pity and slight condescension. "Remember at Pemberley when I first told you who I was? Remember the first question you asked?"

"I asked, why me? Why were you spending your time with me? I still have no idea. You're a legend, a myth, a ghost on the wind. Why did you reach so far down and pick me? You didn't answer, you just kissed me….."

"Ah, yes," she smirked. "Well, I think it's time I gave you your answers. I first reached out because I was simply curious. The whispers about you were getting louder, they said you were good, could be the very best. I've been out on my own for so long, I thought that maybe you could be a potential muse, even an equal. Of course you weren't back then, you still aren't, despite what I said back in Slough, despite all you've achieved since. But I honestly planned on seeing you that one time, judging you and then never seeing you again."

"So, what changed? Why have you kept coming back?"

The Italian smiled at him, but it was a sad one.

"Our sufferings in life do not compare you realise, let's get that out the way," she began, throwing Darcy off a bit with the change of direction. "I have been through more than you could ever imagine. But it's not about that. Sometimes I think that I've met every person on this wretched planet, all of them. From the slum to the penthouse, from the suburb to the manor, I've known them all. Drug dealers, arms dealers, pimps and prostitutes, murderers, do gooders, politicians, CEO's, office workers, suburban house wives, street rats, thieves, grifters…. Well, I know all of them intimately. And honestly I've never met anyone, not a single one, with as much anger inside them as me…."

She looked at him.

"Until I met you. That's why I kept coming back. Because behind all that marble, honestly, William Darcy, you are the angriest person I've ever known."

She stood up with a sigh.

"I'll deliver this letter for you," she began to wrap things up. "And ask yourself why you chose this girl, William. I think you may now have the answer. But after I have done this…"

"We'll never see each other again, will we?" Darcy finished for her.

"I think our story has come to its logical conclusion, don't you?" The Italian smiled softly. "I've enjoyed our time together but everything has to end sooner or later. Every story. Better to finish it on a high, don't you think?"

"Perhaps." he conceded sadly, he would miss her. It hit him then just how important the woman standing over him had been to him. This incredible woman who he had met only a handful of times in his life. It was strange how that could happen, how someone so fleeting could shape you into something different. Because of her, he'd been a better grifter, always seeking to impress, always seeking validation. He owed his career to her.

"Was it worth it?" he asked, knowing it would be his last chance, knowing the sheer weight behind the question. "What we do, grifting. Living like this. Is it worth it?"

She laughed loud and long again, that magnificent sound that held so much.

"Of course not," she started to walk away, her voice fading as she began to disappear into the world forever. "But be honest with yourself, would you have done it any other way?"

He wouldn't.

He was a grifter

Or at least he used to be.

Maybe he would be again.

But for now he packed up his desk, put it into boxes, knocked out the lights, locked the locks and left, back to the home that was finally his again.

* * *

 **AN - Cheers for reading and all that. I wanted this one to be a bit of an in depth look at Darcy as well as a reveal, hope it was ok. Let me know if you liked it, hated it, whatever.**


	26. Project MS-2

"A good grift." Lizzy nodded, even that slight praise hurting her to admit. Because ever since she had met this man, all everyone had done was tell her what a genius he was, the greatest living grifter, the smartest man in every room. And she'd rolled her eyes every time. But now?

Will Darcy was a genius, the greatest living grifter, the smartest man in every room.

She took another moment just to admire it, this score, this unbelievable score. The sheer scope of it was incredible. All those games within the game, all those spinning plates so expertly juggled, the way they'd embodied it all. The tenaciousness, the planning, the deception, the execution. It was a master class in how to be a con man. Second guessing everything, being three steps ahead of everyone, being arrogant and daring enough to run with a scam that even the most optimistic of grifters wouldn't have even considered starting. To con someone who knew they were being conned? To knock over a fucking Vegas casino? And in the end the most impressive thing, the simplicity of it when you really broke it down and thought about it. The way that every lie, every misdirection was all just part of the biggest of illusions. It was the perfect grift.

"Thank you for your effusions," Darcy half smirked at her. "Coming from you that endorsement is about as good as I could have hoped for I suppose. Besides, it was not a good grift…."

"Come on, Darcy…" Lizzy frowned, false modesty of this magnitude had always annoyed her.

"I'm serious," Darcy laughed. "That grift was ridiculous, a suicide mission, a classic case of heart leading the head. Looking back I can't believe I did it, can't believe I made my friends do it. God we should be in prison right now."

"But you pulled it off." Lizzy argued.

"If we did it again fifty times, I guarantee it would fail forty nine," Darcy shrugged. "Never be emotional, that's what I kept telling Charlie for all these years because it gets you locked up or worse, killed. You have to learn detachment in this game otherwise you'll crash and burn. It's what has ruined so many of us. But yet there I was, willing to risk everything because of an old grudge. There were so many times in that score where it went wrong, where I should have pulled us out. Sometimes the smartest course of action is to give up."

"But you didn't."

"But I didn't." Darcy agreed, smiling at her. He'd always had a good smile. Perhaps it was the fact that it was offered so rarely that you felt rewarded when it was directed at you. Shook herself from this line of thought quickly. That wouldn't do, no, no.

"So that's it then?" she asked. "You're out of the game? Your crew as well?"

"That's certainly it for me," Darcy looked away from her. Normally such a gesture would indicate a lie but Lizzy knew it was something else entirely and let him continue. "It was time for me to step away, for many reasons, most of which you are aware of."

"And the others?" she questioned quickly, not keen on bringing up his letter and all she now knew about him.

"Well, that is a different story," Darcy chuckle. "Some of what we told you in London was true, Charlie was going to set up a new crew in the South but there was a slight change of plan. Charlie has decided to stick with being a roper, the responsibility of running a crew of his own was too much for him to handle, a decision I must admit to encouraging."

"So Richard's taken over? I thought he was getting out with you?"

Darcy laughed loudly.

"Can you imagine Richard running his own crew? Jesus Christ no work would ever get done! No, Caroline has stepped up."

"Caroline Bingley?" Lizzy gasped incredulously.

"They very same," Darcy narrowed his eyes. "And I have every confidence that she will be an extraordinary success. Caro has earned this opportunity. Richard remains with her as the fixer for now, on a temporary basis he insists on calling it but I'm pretty sure it will become a permanent arrangement. I thought that we would go out together but I have realised that Richard isn't ready for retirement. Perhaps he never will be. To be honest I'm half glad, he'd be bouncing off the walls here and it would only be a matter of time before he found some trouble or other. No, it's for the best that Caro can keep an eye on him. I'm sure they will be fine, better than that I'd wager."

"I struggle to picture Caroline as the inspirational leader…" Lizzy muttered under her breath.

"And could you picture me as it?" Darcy countered immediately. "I doubt it. Something you will learn as you continue progressing in our world is that it takes all sorts to lead a crew. There is no formula, no magic alchemy. Not for leadership anyway. It's just there or it isn't. And Caroline will run with this chance, I promise you."

"Alright, alright!" Lizzy held her hands up, she had clearly annoyed him slightly with her remarks about his friend. "So where are they then, because if they were in London I'd know."

Darcy made a show of checking his watch.

"If I'm not mistaken they should be boarding a plane to Scotland about now…"

Oh for fuck sake.

* * *

They were coming, all of them. Charlie, Caroline and Richard were going to be here. Just as she began to digest this next nail in the coffin for this score and possibly her career there was a knock at the door.

"Who is it?" Lizzy called out, certain that it was Stacy and Eddie but making sure it wasn't Hugo drunkenly stumbling around, maybe looking for something more than friendship. He didn't seem the type, but you never knew.

"Your mother." a stern voice called out, Stacy kept up character at all points.

Lizzy sighed and with a glance at Darcy stood up to answer the door, revealing two angry people who pushed past her immediately into the room.

"Come in." she said sarcastically, shutting the door and moving back to her seat next to the bed.

"Mr Darcy," Stacy began straight away in an apologetic tone, ignoring Lizzy. "We had no idea you were here. We were assured that you were in fact still in America and would not be returning any time soon…."

"That is indeed the common perception, I have not advertised my return to the London set and The Ton." Darcy smiled warmly, diffusing the tension slightly. "You cannot blame Miss Bennet here for that…"

"We should have checked, been more thorough." Eddie cut in, the same apologetic tone.

"You should," Darcy agreed, the first signs of a frown beginning to form before he caught himself and replaced it with a smile. "However, this is a meeting I have been after for some time. That score you pulled on Google in 2003 remains unmatched."

"Thank you," Stacy smiled. "But it is us who should be honoured. Your achievements in this game far outstrip our own. The Monaco job, the Singapore F1 scam, well the list goes on."

"Singapore," Darcy smiled slightly, as if recalling the fond memory. "Perhaps our finest hour. You are too kind. Politeness dictates that I should enquire as to why you find yourself at my establishment, but I think the answer is already known to me."

"If we'd known you were here we would never have presumed to continue our score." Stacy frowned.

"But you didn't and here we are," Darcy smiled wryly. "And you have presented me with quite the conundrum."

"It doesn't need to be." Lizzy piped up for the first time, but she was cut off with a warning glare from Stacy. Fine then, it was clear she was not allowed to speak.

"We know we are in no place to ask this of you, Mr Darcy…." Eddie began.

"But you're going to ask anyway." Darcy sighed.

"Yes we are. We have one more day, the races tomorrow, and then the next morning we'll be gone before dawn."

"So I should let you stay?" Darcy questioned. "Let you use my home as a base for a long con? Let the trail lead back here? What if it doesn't work, what if he figures it out? What questions will be asked of me? To almost every fraud squad investigator in the country I'm still the top prize, the one they all want to catch. The one that got away and got out the game. Why should I expose myself to them?"

"It'll work," Stacy countered. "This is not our first rodeo."

"Your reputation is the only reason I have not thrown you out of here already," Darcy said. "If I were a betting man then I would have my money on your score succeeding, but the reason I don't gamble much is because it's not enough for someone like me to play the probabilities, play the percentages, not anymore anyway. No score is a guarantee, you know I know that so do not insult me by claiming otherwise. Remember who I am."

"We mean no offence…" Stacy attempted.

"Nor do I," Darcy interrupted, Lizzy noticed he was determinedly not looking at her and she soon found out why. "So I hope no-one here will be offended when I also contend that you are not working at full crew strength."

"What do you mean?" Eddie frowned, but Lizzy knew exactly where he was about to go, why he couldn't look at her.

"I have known Lizzy here for a while now and although I have nothing but admiration for her I also know that less than a year ago she was playing short cons on the streets of London. Playing the Monte and the Badger. She is new to this game like we all were once, but the fact remains that she is untried and untested at this level."

"You fucking…" Lizzy began, the anger swelling up inside her.

"Again, I say this not to offend," he attempted to soothe, to little avail. "I say this because it is fact. You are not the Gardiners, Lizzy, you are not the Bingley's, you are not me. Not yet at least. We have been doing this for years, have perfected it to a science whereas last year you were on probation and running short cons."

"Last year you were honey trapping my sister!" Lizzy stood up, ready for an argument, ready for a fight. "You owe me, Darcy."

"I owe you nothing," Darcy responded patiently, only the slight sigh betraying anything else. "And I do not wish to have this discussion again, I have made my feelings on this topic quite clear numerous times. Feelings that incidentally you came close to agreeing with not half an hour ago."

"I was being polite." Lizzy sneered.

"Maybe so," Darcy inclined his head to her before addressing the Gardiner's again. "It doesn't matter now. My judgement is that I am unwilling to expose my sister and I to this kind of risk. I also have some friends coming tomorrow who know Lizzy and I cannot guarantee their reactions to her. They will be at the races and from a purely selfish point of view I will not cancel a day out with friends I haven't seen in almost a year just to maintain your covers."

"Darcy, please…" Lizzy begged, the anger disappearing and in its place coming the desperation.

"I am sorry." Darcy said with regret after a long pause. "You have to leave."

"We understand." Eddie nodded, after a silent exchange between he and his wife. "Lizzy pack your things."

She'd lost. For a moment she just stood there, not comprehending how it had all gone wrong. She was finished. Back to square one. This whole year of graft, all for nothing. She'd have to go back to London, no way would Stacy and Eddie keep her on after this. If she was a liability this early on, their was no way they'd want to continue the partnership. Next week she'd be playing The Fiddle with Jane, the Pigeon Drop with Kitty, she'd be turning over the fucking Queen on the Monte table after taking twenty quid from some sucker. All because of him.

Began to silently pack her things, Darcy saying something to the Gardiners about his driver taking them anywhere they wanted to go. How big of him. Standing there, waiting to escort them out himself, making sure nothing could jeopardise his perfect life, his illusion of a life. Oh he looked happier and healthier sure, but she'd seen it in him, that emptiness as he admitted to his retirement, that far away look that told her how crushing it was for him to no longer be 'Picasso'. Noticed how he had taken every opportunity to remind them of how important he used to be, how he was the fraud squads number one target. How he had told her the Lady Catherine score in such unnecessary detail. His past glories. Who he _used_ to be. But who was he now? Just another unhappy rich man pretending. It gave her small comfort as she finished her packing.

" _Sometimes the smartest course of action is to give up."_

That's what he'd said hadn't he? Sometimes you just had to give up. Some battles could not be won.

Darcy offered to take her bag but she shrugged him off with an added glare. Gestured for Stacy and Eddie to go out the door first and they strode out quickly, she and Darcy following right behind them. And when she reached the door…..

Lizzy shut it quickly from the inside, turning the lock before the banging commenced and whirling round to face a man she'd only seen once before.

A shocked Will Darcy.

He hadn't given up. When he'd wanted something so badly he'd ploughed right on through and taken his home back.

So she was fucked if she was giving up now.

"Didn't see that one coming did you?" she smiled widely at him.

It took a moment, but as soon as it happened she knew she'd done the right thing.

Because despite the hesitance there, Will Darcy smiled back.

* * *

She stared at him for a moment, gathering herself. If she was honest it had been an impulsive action to lock them in the room together and now they were here she had to figure something out sharpish. The aim was known, make him change his mind, but the method was still beyond her. How was she going to do this?

But she knew she could. This was what she was best at, what all those years running the streets had prepared her for. The long con you could learn, the mechanisms, the staging, the tactics. But what she had was something that couldn't be taught, grift sense. Thinking on your feet, being backed into a corner with seemingly no way out but nevertheless coming out smelling of roses. This is what she did better than anyone. Better even than Will Darcy she'd wager.

But how to do this?

Every con, and make no mistake, this was a con, operated in the same framework. First came the foundations, the planning, the research. Second came the Build Up as everything was put in place. Third was the Convincer and the 'In and In' where the con truly kicked off. And lastly was the 'Hurrah', the rug pull if you will, followed by the Blow Out. So where was she in all this? Well the foundations were there, she knew Will Darcy as well as most did, knew what made him tic, what weaknesses were present and ripe for exploitation. The Build Up was done, all the pieces for this to work were in place, she knew that as well. The Convincer, that's where she was. She had to convince Darcy using everything that had come before. Use an 'In and In'? Put something of hers on the line to reassure him? Could work. But what? What did she have that he wanted?

Well…

"You are one of very few people who still have the ability to surprise me, Lizzy," Darcy brought her out of her musings. "Etiquette demands that you accept my decision, my reputation only adds to that. Yet you don't play by those rules do you?"

"Etiquette's overrated," Lizzy smirked at him, the cogs still turning. "You and the fucking Ton can shove it up your arse."

Darcy laughed loudly before sitting back down again, crossing his leg, appraising her yet again.

"Did you even have a plan when you shut that door?" he asked curiously.

"Nah," she replied honestly. "Still working on it."

"Enlighten me."

"What, show my workings?" she laughed. "But then how would I wow you with my master plan?"

He smiled again and inclined his head.

"Everything you're thinking I already know anyway." he said in that superior tone, but there was a hint of playfulness in it as well.

"I thought I was surprising you?"

"You were with the impulse, but now the game has begun and I know the game better than anybody. Right now your adrenaline is pumping, your heart rate has shot up, your mind is working quicker than it could normally. You're thinking of all of our interactions, everything you've ever heard me say, everything you've guessed I've thought and you're trying to find the patterns, find the opening, find that one thing that could change my mind. And if the Gardiners have done their job, you're putting it all within the long con frame. You know that the next step is the Convincer. You need to make me change my mind. So how are you going to do that, Miss Bennet?"

"Walker. My name's Walker." she muttered.

"What's in a name anyway?" he shrugged. "So, tell me, what have you got so far?"

"I'm currently pondering an 'In and In'." she admitted, there was no point in pretending, and besides there was another game at play here, one that she was sure Darcy hadn't noticed yet. Not because it was particularly oblique or complex, but because she knew how he thought and how he didn't.

"Good," he praised. "The Gardiners have been able to do something with that stubborn brain of yours."

"Stubborn?" she smirked.

"Stubborn." he confirmed.

"Fair enough I suppose," she took a step towards him. "What do you think then?"

"I think it was a logical place to start, but an 'In and In' is unlikely to be your best course of action. There is nothing you can offer me that I don't already have."

"Nothing at all?" she took another step closer. "What if we offered to cut you in, twenty percent?"

"Look around you, Lizzy. Do I look like I need money? No, no, not like that. I'm disappointed."

Reel him in, Lizzy. Reel him in.

"Everyone needs more money," she shrugged. "I didn't think you'd go for it but you never know."

Darcy sighed.

"If this is all you have to offer then…."

"Do you miss it?" she asked, seemingly out of the blue. "The Con. Being 'Picasso'. Do you miss it?"

He narrowed his eyes and looked up and her with suspicion.

"An interesting about turn," he said slowly. "What is this, left body shot to the ribs after all the right jabs?"

"I'm a southpaw." Lizzy quipped, rewarded with only a slight turn up of his mouth.

"Is there a point to this line of questioning?" he asked.

"Just having a chat." she shrugged, but the glint in her eye suggested otherwise.

"Is that so. Then in answer to your question, no I do not miss it."

"Are you lying?"

There was a pause.

"Of course I'm lying." he admitted.

"How did it feel then?" she took another step closer, standing over him. "To walk up to our table and see me?"

"I saw you the moment I walked into the room." he said in a quiet voice, causing Lizzy to be thrown off balance this time. "I had to walk around every one of those tables knowing you were there the whole time. Knowing I was going to have to face you again. I was totally unprepared."

She was silent for a moment as Darcy avoided her eyes. She'd barely heard his words, but she knew the weight behind them. Heard the uncertainty and vulnerability in them. Not now, Darcy, please, she thought. Don't make this real. Not yet anyway. That was her job down the line….

"And what about when you finally got around to us?" she asked, pressing on despite the unease she was now feeling. "When you shook my hand, when I was introduced as Anna Hayward? When you pretended to Hugo not to know me? Did it make you feel alive? Back where you belong, back in the game that made you?"

He remained silent.

"Was your adrenaline pumping, did your heart rate shoot up, did your mind begin working quicker than it normally would?"

She leaned in closer.

"Did you feel alive again?"

Still nothing, his face inches from hers, the slight flickers in his eyes betraying confusion, hurt, everything.

"You're a junkie, Darcy, an addict. And there's nothing sweeter than that one final hit. You and me at the races tomorrow in one of those god awful hospitality boxes, the Bingley's and Richard alongside us, playing Hugo Chamberlain like a fucking violin. One last fucking score, one last taste of what you were. How does that sound?"

A pause and then a joke, what she'd expected.

"Never go into drug counselling." he sighed, standing up and making for the door.

It was working. Now for the bullseye, the bullet to the temple.

"You say there's nothing I can give you that you don't already have, but that's not entirely true is it?" she called to his retreating form. He paused in his step but didn't turn around.

"No good can come of where you are about to go with this." he said slowly, voice strained.

"And where am I going?" she asked innocently.

"Just don't."

"Look at me, Darcy."

"Don't."

"Will…."

He turned and looked at her. She'd moved so she was sat on the edge of the bed. This was the dangerous part, she was playing with fire and she knew it.

"You still want me," she lowered her voice, stating what they both knew was a fact. " _I'm_ the thing you don't have. So what if I said you could?"

She was doing this. She was actually doing this.

"Not like this." he looked her dead in the eye.

"And why not?" she asked him, standing up and taking the paces needed to be nose to nose. "Those morals of yours won't allow it?"

"Precisely." he agreed, but he didn't back down.

"You don't have morals, Will, we both know this. It's all words isn't it, those codes you spout, the rules you live by? Bullshit. You're a con man, a grifter, a bad man. Just be bad, Will, stop pretending."

She looked up at his dark eyes and moved ever so slightly closer, lips parted….

He pushed her away.

"Not like this." he repeated, breathing slightly heavier.

She allowed the silence to fall before shrugging.

"Fine then, your loss."

And then it came. There it was, what she had been after since the beginning.

He lost it.

"FINE?" he shouted. "You say all that shit and then you just shrug? Jesus Christ you're a fucking piece of work! I know I did some shit to you but do you think I deserve this? To be played with like a fucking toy, thrown this way and that until I break? Well, congratulations, Bennet, come look at the fucking show! I told you that I loved you and you use it like this? There's fucking lines in the sand! Do you have any respect for me? Any respect for yourself?"

"Relax." she waved him off, pushing the shame of what she was doing down. Job to do. Job to do.

"You just offered to sleep with me in exchange for a score!" he exploded again. "How could you do that? Are you fucking kidding me?"

"THIS IS MY FUCKING LIFE!" she screamed back at him. "My fucking life, my fucking career. All I've ever wanted to do is play the long con and now I'm doing it and you're about to fucking ruin it! Is that love, Will? How can you say you love me and then do that to me?"

"Do not twist this!" he pointed a finger at her. "This is on you."

"On me?" she laughed derisively. "What's on me? Let's talk about what's on Hugo fucking Chamberlain shall we?"

This was it now. This was what it had all been building towards.

"What's he got to do with anything?" Darcy sneered.

"Everything," Lizzy shot back. "I remember every word of that fucking letter you wrote me, I'm sure you do to. That bit at the end about why you played this game in the first place, how you wanted to make a difference, how you were so sick and tired of the world being run by that 1% of fucking Etonian's. Well, he's one of them. Hugo fucking Chamberlain, you know his family company still own tobacco farms in Asia? They pay them a dollar a day for thirteen hours of backbreaking labour. And what about dear old Hugo? His bank was personally responsible for five thousand people having their homes repossessed when their stocks crashed three years ago. You know the bonus he took home that year? £1.1 million. One point One fucking Million. Bought a nice little mansion not too far from me actually, looking down on all us poor suckers from his castle on a fucking cloud. Swanning around at the race meets, wanting to cheat ordinary people out of their livelihood. He's fucking scum! He needs to get _got_. But now he's about to walk away scot free because you're worried about yourself. Perfect you and your perfect sister in your perfect hotel with your perfect fucking lives. Just one of them, Darcy, that's all you are now. One of them. Actually scratch that, you've _always_ been one of them!"

She dismissed him with a swat and span around to look out into the dark night, chest heavy and eyes moist. Waiting and waiting.

"I am not one of them." Darcy said finally.

"Then fucking prove it."

Heard the door opening behind her, heard Stacy and Eddie, who had obviously been waiting there ever since it had been shut them, begin to apologise to Darcy profusely before they were cut off.

"You may stay and finish your score," he said simply. "Oh and Miss Bennet?"

She turned to face him, saw his mask was firmly back up. Searched desperately for the sign, the thing she needed, the acknowledgment from him that he'd caught up and he knew what she'd just done.

"Well played." he nodded curtly before walking away.

"What the hell was that?" Stacy asked her when his footsteps had disappeared down the corridor.

"The best work I've ever done." she brushed past them.

And the worst she thought as she wiped a solitary tear from her eye, walking back to her lonely room, reflecting on just how good she was at this and how that was probably in no way a good thing.

* * *

 **AN - Hello again. Sorry it's been another long wait. It's looking like I'm going to have some more time on my hands the next few months so hopefully I'll get better at updating and stop procrastinating so much. Hope you enjoyed this one, I think I should just write scripts instead as all my chapters seem to be endless conversations between people in rooms, but I do like this one. I hope it's got quite a lot going on under the surface maybe, I don't know. Anyway, review if you have time, if not no worries. The chapter title is one of my favourite cons of all time, also known as the Great Reality TV Swindle. Look it up if such things interest you!**


	27. Beijing Tea

"Just what did you say to the poor bloke?" Stacy pressed from the passenger seat for what felt like the thousandth time. "His face when he walked out that room…."

"Just drop it," Lizzy sighed as she leant her forehead against the backseat window, against the world as it rolled by. "Say thank you for saving the score and be done with it."

"You hear that, Stace?" Eddie snorted, eyes not leaving the road as he drove. "She wants us to thank her for getting us out of the mess she created herself."

"Whatever." Lizzy rolled her eyes petulantly.

"You've spent too much time as Anna Hayward," Stacy laughed. "You've got the moody teenager down to a pat."

Lizzy ignored the jibe. She should be grateful they were joking about it she supposed. Eddie had been apocalyptic the previous night, following her back to her room and giving her a thorough dressing down. She'd never seen him so angry. Rightly so. She'd almost ruined everything. But then she hadn't, she'd pulled it back from the brink with, if she said so herself, an absolute master class in grifting. She'd prodded and probed Darcy for what felt like hours even though it was probably only ten or so minutes, pricking at the weaknesses, using everything she had to throw him off balance, to make him angry and emotional, make him irrational. Using his feelings for her, his addiction to the game, his desire for everything to be in his control. She'd broken him down so thoroughly before delivering the final blow. The blow that if dealt first would certainly not have moved him. Reminding him why they did what they did, why it was necessary. Or at least why they told themselves that being a jumped up thief, because that was really what they all were, was necessary. To stop people like Hugo Chamberlain and his ilk from getting away with it. From owning the world.

Bullshit justifications, but there you have it.

Felt bad about it. Hadn't expected too, but she did. How angry he had been, his look of desperate disappointment in her as she had offered herself to him. Of course she would never have gone through with it, it was all part of the grift, but still it had hit her harder than she thought it would. She was sure he understood now, he was too smart not to. But that moment when he thought she was being genuine, she could still see his face crumble now when she closed her eyes.

But that wasn't the worst part.

The worst thing was that although she felt these things, although she felt bad, the other part of her had _enjoyed_ it.

Really fucking enjoyed it.

Maybe the masochist in him had too.

She watched as the highlands passed in a blur. Scotland was a truly remarkable place. All hard edges and sweeping statements of landscape, a country that was battered and bruised and so fucking _real_ it was difficult to accept. There was a resigned yet superior feeling to the place, as if everything was saying 'This is what we are and this is what we will still be when all of you are long gone.' A place you wanted to leave yet also wanted to stay in forever.

"I don't like it.." Eddie repeated the sentiment he had been saying ever since last night.

"We've been through this." Stacy attempted to dismiss, but Eddie was having none of it.

"How can we guarantee any of this?" he argued. "There are too many factors beyond our control, too many things that could go wrong. What if one of Darcy's friends give us away?"

"They won't." Lizzy answered for Stacy.

"And how can you possibly know that?"

"The Bingley's and Richard Fitzwilliam are the best grifters on the planet," she said through gritted teeth. "They conned the entire grifter population of London for fuck sake. Knocked over a Vegas casino. They fucking conned me."

"That they did." Eddie shot nastily, as if it didn't take much, as if she was a mark ripe for the picking.

She ignored the tone. She'd done enough damage to their relationship without getting into a slanging match.

"Darcy will tell them and they'll play it out," she attempted to assure him. "They'll probably enjoy it as well, the bastards. Richard especially."

"Well they better," Eddie said. "I must say, I wish I was meeting them under different circumstances. I'd love to hear some of their stories."

"Five minutes in Caroline Bingley's company and you'll regret saying that." Lizzy replied.

"That bad?" Stacy gave her a sympathetic look.

"Worse." Lizzy grimaced.

"Anyway, doesn't matter," Eddie said. "Maybe we won't even see them…."

"We will," Lizzy put him right. "Darcy will come to the box, I can guarantee that."

"How?"

"I just ….. can." Lizzy said with finality, not keen on delving into this. He'd come, of course he would. Hugo had invited him. And this Darcy 2.0 did not turn down such invites. It was a chance for him to practice. And also, you know, that other thing….

"This better hold up…" Eddie worried yet again.

"It will, dear." Stacy put a hand on his knee.

"I just worry…"

"I know." she leaned over and kissed his cheek.

Lizzy kept her eyes on the blur of colours flying past, suddenly uncomfortable. That was the downside of being in a crew with two people who were together. You could feel like an awful voyeur at points, witness to the biggest challenges relationships could face, mainly working together on something that had real and dire consequences if it went wrong. Normally she had Hacker so it was fine. She missed him in this score, having him not be present didn't feel right. It was how it had to be though.

"How far are we?" she asked after what felt like an appropriate silence.

"Five minutes," Eddie replied. "As soon as we get there I want you to go in search of Hugo, like we discussed. God knows what time he got to the meet, he was away before I'd sat down for breakfast. Part of his awful slumming it with the plebs routine. Just make sure you find him."

"I know," Lizzy sighed impatiently. "I know the plan back to front, Eddie. And sideways and any other fucking way it goes."

She didn't expect him to laugh, but he did. Smiled to herself, maybe it would all be ok.

"Alright then, kid," he chuckled. "I trust you."

"Do you?" she asked.

"Nah," he smiled at her in the front mirror. "But I trust you know that if you fuck up again then you're in real trouble."

"So I won't fuck up again."

"That's the spirit." Eddie said, glancing at his wife who nodded slightly back. Another problem with married grifters, they had their own private body language that no-one else was privy to.

They remained silent for the rest of the short journey, each getting lost in what was about to happen. Darcy had been right. Her heart rate had shot up, the adrenaline was flowing freely, her mind was racing with activity. This was why they did what they did really. This fucking rush, this feeling that could only be repeated by doing it again and again.

She knew what to do, knew every line of it. She was ready.

They pulled into the car park, were directed straight to the VIP spaces when Eddie flashed their tickets to security through the window. Found a space easily.

"Lizzy," Stacy said softly after Eddie had already got out and shut his door. "If whatever the hell is going on between you and Darcy is going to be a problem, say it now. Don't do this if you aren't 100% certain, don't let us do this."

Couldn't afford to leave even the slightest of pauses.

"Nothing's going on," she replied, opening the door. "It's all good, 100%."

Before she could dwell on the lie, she straightened herself, linked arms with Peter Hayward and became Anna again.

* * *

Didn't take her long to find Hugo. He was where he always was at this time at the races, by the paddocks chatting to the trainers and the stable boys. He really was so blind, she snorted to herself as she approached, all dazzling smile and bouncing step. He couldn't see it could he, couldn't see the disdain in the eyes of the people he was wittering on to. The looks that were telling him to fuck off and take his upper class upbringing with him. He thought he was charming them when in reality all he was doing was confirming their already set opinions of people like him. Another patronising wanker of a class tourist. They wouldn't say anything to his face because they'd learnt from a young age that doing so just got you in trouble. So you had to answer patiently, laugh in all the right places, grimace only when the back was turned.

"Anna, darling," he embraced her as she approached. "You look absolutely _spectacular_! Wouldn't you agree Davo?"

"Aye, sir. You look lovely, maam." the old trainer smiled tightly, passably.

"Davo here's got a few running today," Hugo carried on oblivious to any frost. "Reckon I'll put a few quid on…."

'A few quid' she chuckled inwardly, knowing everyone else in the vicinity was doing the same. Was he trying out slang now?

Shook herself. Job to do. She was Anna Hayward.

"Delightful!" she enthused. "Come on, Hugo, Mummy and Daddy are here!"

"Of course," he smiled before turning apologetically to the small gathering around him. "I must take my leave, gents, but it has been an absolute pleasure. Good luck today!"

She linked arms with him and they ambled off, away from the whispers biting like fangs that were sure to follow their exit.

"I don't know why you always come so early," she began conversation. "Nothing even happens at this time."

"Correction, Anna, everything happens at this time!" he exclaimed in that way he did, pathetic sincerity and ignorance. "The bits that the paying public don't see, the real mechanisms of the sport. How can you not want to see that?"

"I'll take your word for it," Lizzy smiled adoringly. "You know much more about such things than me."

Too much, she worried immediately? Too flattering, too on the nose?

Needn't of panicked.

"You'll learn," he patted her arm patronisingly. "What say we sneak a quick drink before the parents see?"

"It's ten o'clock, Hugo!" she swatted his arm playfully, even flirtatiously.

"It's 10pm somewhere in the world!" he told his tired joke with what he probably thought was a roguish wink. He looked like he was having a minor stroke.

"Oh, you are a devil," she giggled. "OK then, but not a word to Mummy and Daddy."

"Of course not." he placed a finger on his lips conspiratorially.

Supposed she should giggle again. Fuck sake.

They made their way over to the hospitality tent. It was still relatively quiet at this hour, the first races wouldn't start until about 1pm, but there was enough activity going on around to keep them entertained as they walked. The bookies were setting up shop, still working at getting into character judging by their slightly worn expressions. Want to see the British class system in microscopic form? Come to the fucking horse racing. A place where the hierarchy was firmly in place, where everything was an illusion of manners and politeness from one side, mostly real disdain and mockery from the other. The poor and the rich, coming together. The poor were the entertainment, trotting out their working class clichés and cockney accents for the rich to laugh at and encourage. All to make a living. To win those small victories as some fucking heiress lost an inconsequential fortune to them.

Walked into the tent which was busier than it was outside, positively teeming with people, the early comers who needed no excuse to begin the revelry at such an hour. Dodged through the maze of wide brimmed hats and overweight, rosy cheeked men and came to the drinks table, champagne poured immediately.

And that was when a horrible sound came from just behind her right ear.

"You look like shit," Caroline Bingley was saying. "Did you sleep at all last night? No, no, don't answer that."

Already?

"Jealous, Caro?" Richard Fitzwilliam laughed. "I managed a couple of hours. I'm telling you though, Stewardesses…. _Lifechanging_."

"If I wasn't so disgusted with your blatant disregard for the opposite sex I'd be impressed by how fast you work," Caroline said haughtily but with some small warmth Lizzy hadn't really heard before. "It was a short haul flight after all."

"All the time I need, baby!" Richard guffawed.

"Disregard that, actually. Consider me still well and truly disgusted."

"Relax, Caro," Richard laughed again. "Have a drink."

"That's another thing. How drunk are you right now? Because you were going for it on the plane even by your standards. Coupled with no sleep and I'm sure a plentiful abuse of room service…"

"I'm Scottish, therefore I am blessed with a remarkably high tolerance for Whisky."

"Tell that to the shrivelled up mess you call a liver in ten years time."

"I will do that," Richard said. "Anyway, where's Charlie? Anything to get me away from this fucking lecture ….. Oh, sorry there, old sport."

He'd crashed straight into Hugo as he attempted to escape. Of course he had. Hugo had managed to keep his drink from spilling everywhere just about and Lizzy could tell from his expression what was about to happen. He wasn't annoyed or angry. He was smiling.

They were about to have a conversation. She was about to be introduced to them.

This was it then.

"No worries, chap!" Hugo laughed it off, turning round to face them. Lizzy stayed where she was in the vain hope that this could be avoided. Knew it couldn't.

"Good, good," Richard was saying. "Just didn't see you there in your camouflage."

Lizzy had to desperately hold back a laugh at Richard's blatant mockery of Hugo's awful country gentlemen clothes. Hugo, of course, did not pick up on this and laughed again.

"No harm done. Hugo Chamberlain." he said, obviously offering his hand.

"Richard Fitzwilliam, and this sour faced cow is Caroline Bingley."

"Yes, thank you Richard," Caroline sighed. "A pleasure, Mr Chamberlain."

"And just who is this delightful redhead you're hiding from us?" Richard asked, Lizzy groaning silently.

"Oh, that's Anna," Hugo grabbed her by the hand and span her forcibly around. "Anna, meet Richard and Caroline."

Time slowed as they all locked eyes. And then it happened, what she knew would. Richard's smirk just grew wider and wider.

Cunt.

"Anna, you say?" he said, offering his hand and then kissing hers when it was encased. "Well, aren't you just a _vision_!"

"Thank you, sir." she breathlessly giggled. Stay with it, Lizzy. Stay with it, Anna….

"A true beauty," Richard carried on with a twinkle in his eye. "Though you do look slightly familiar, perhaps we have been introduced before?"

"I don't think so," she pretended to consider, inside she was fucking _seething_. "You must be mistaken."

"Are you sure?" Richard cocked his head. "Have you ever been to Vegas perchance?"

Was he really doing this?

"Oh no, I've never been to America," she replied with the right amount of confusion. "Although it does sound frightfully exciting."

"It's full of surprises," Richard smirked. "Well, I must be mistaken then. If only we had met before though, then perhaps I could have stolen you before this fine young gentleman had."

"Oh, we're not an item," Hugo said very fucking unhelpfully, Lizzy knew it was just going to encourage Richard. "Just friends."

"Excellent, so I still have a shot!" Richard winked.

"That's enough, Richard," Caroline interjected. "Leave the poor girl alone. Besides, she's way too young for you."

Never before had Lizzy been so grateful for Caroline Bingley. Because she knew Caroline, or thought she did. Richard would tease and prod, play with fire and burn them all if he thought there was amusement in it for him, but Caroline was different. She was, there was no other word for it, clinical. She'd read the situation immediately and know to extract herself and Richard from it with haste.

"I'm just teasing," Richard offered. "So what brings you two…."

"So sorry, Hugo and Anna, but we must rush off and find my brother," Caroline interrupted him, grabbing his arm at the same time. "Make sure he's not got lost. It was a pleasure to meet you both."

And with that, they were gone into the throng, leaving Lizzy with Hugo trying to maintain the façade, keep it together, slow her racing heart that she didn't think could get any faster.

"Nice people," Hugo was saying. "Nice people indeed."

Oh, Hugo, she thought. If only you knew…..

* * *

Soon after they rejoined with Stacy and Eddie in Hugo's hospitality box. Finest view in the house, no expense spared. Private waiters, plate and plates of the finest food being brought in and brought in, access to an exclusive bookies, every need and more catered for. They played it well enough, the correct amount of barely concealed wonder at the expense of it all. After all, they weren't supposed to be used to this. Hugo's friends were there but mostly ignored them in favour of getting drunk and spying out women, which was fine by Lizzy. Pigs the lot of them. Fucking bankers. Hugo was however as attentive as ever, going to great lengths to include them in everything, the possibilities of their fake race horse forever running through his mind undoubtedly.

It was easy to get lost in. Lizzy had wavered only slightly after the Caroline and Richard meeting, but compartmentalised quickly. Had to forget it. Besides, it had gone fine. Had expected before that Richard may try to find some game in the whole thing for his own pleasure, so she had been prepared enough. Was still angry that he had done what he'd done, even bringing up Vegas for fuck sake, but she'd dealt with it fine. Caroline and Richard she'd known would be no real problem for her. The dread that she was attempting to push down was to do with the other two meetings that she knew could only be just around the corner. Will Darcy and Charlie Bingley. It was the latter that worried her most. Darcy, well that was what it was. Not that she knew what _it_ was anymore, but it was something she thought she'd be able to handle. He'd be nothing but professional and she'd have to match that, put any and all of Lizzy Bennet away. She could do that. But Charlie? It was a different matter. He'd hurt her sister, her best friend, he'd honey trapped and then disappeared, leaving Jane a wreck. Her own feelings she could leave in a box to the side, but Jane's? That was more difficult. She was going to have to smile at him, giggle at any jokes like a schoolgirl, let him laugh with his friends, all the while holding back the verbal and physical assaults she wanted to lay at his door. Coupled with that was the fact that she was unsure how Charlie would react to her. They all knew that she was here playing a scam, that had been confirmed in the conversation earlier, but how would Charlie take it? Would he be professional like his sister and Darcy, teasing like Richard, or would he be something else? Something worrying? He'd loved Jane, that's what Darcy had said, had been willing to throw away his crews biggest ever score for her until the others had stopped him. Would he see her and instantly be transported back all those months ago to The Netherfield penthouse where she and Jane had spent those fleeting times, where it had all began? Would he be flustered, ashamed, grovelling, apologetic? Things he couldn't be, not right now? She was in a score, she was Anna Hayward, her parents were Rosa and Peter, Hugo Chamberlain was her mark. Lizzy and Jane Bennet didn't exist. He wouldn't ruin it would he? Surely not. Surely any lingering feelings had long since evaporated. It had been a long time ago, fuck almost two years now. Jesus, two years….

"Come on, Anna!" Hugo said jovially from next to her. "Let's have a flutter."

Allowed him to take the lead towards the bookie. He placed obscene bets that she gasped at incredulously, whilst also pretending to be impressed by it. Hugo let her, that's right fucking _let her_ , place some bets of her own. Lizzy Bennet would study the form book, pick a promising horse and go for a place finish, but Anna was different. So she picked horses based on their names or the colour of the jockey's outfit, peppering effusions with words like 'cute' and 'funny'. It hurt her very soul, but still she was so alive.

So alive right now.

It didn't take long for Darcy to arrive. She felt his presence before she'd even seen him, her stomach which was already in a state of constant nervous excitement jolting briefly, spiking up until settling.

"Ah, Mr Darcy, you made it!" Hugo effused, rushing to greet the new arrival.

"Thank you for your hospitality, Mr Chamberlain." she heard Darcy's deep tone reciprocate.

Turned round, ready for this. She was about to grift side by side with Will Darcy for the first time. As equals. The thought excited her more than it should, she was slightly disgusted by such betraying thoughts, but there you go. However, she had to mask surprise and shock almost immediately as her eyes locked immediately onto Darcy.

Georgiana Darcy that was.

Why, God, why?

Georgiana gave Lizzy a brief smirk before her brother introduced her to Hugo. She was not what you would call dressed for the occasion. Long hooded top and leggings, those battered converses still present, eyes smoky and dark, hair covered by a black beanie hat. She looked effortless, like one of those chic models with a burgeoning heroin addiction. Too skinny, Lizzy thought briefly. There was something off about her as well. Aside from the brief smirk, gone was the cool and confident girl she'd met in the woods and in her place had come something else entirely. She seemed nervous, her eyes were flicking around constantly, she looked smaller than Lizzy knew she was. There was no time to dwell though.

They were all introduced, Darcy was warm and giving to all, only Lizzy could see the disdain in his eyes when he shook hands with Hugo's friends and entered conversation with them. Georgiana on the other hand handled things differently, short and sharp, escaping any interactions as soon as she could. Lizzy avoided them mostly, couldn't help her eyes flicking to Darcy across the room as he spoke to others, but that was ok, Hugo would laugh it off as Anna's little crush. No sign of the Bingley's or Richard, perhaps Darcy had warned them off. Or maybe Caroline had made the decision, it was she calling the shots now after all. Her tactics of avoidance couldn't last forever and she found herself next to Darcy and Hugo, Georgiana lingering behind, and Eddie and Stacy with them.

Couldn't help it.

She wanted to show off.

"Oh, Hugo!" she squealed. "Did you see my horse come in? I told you I had a good feeling about him!"

"You put me to shame, Anna!" he laughed. "It would appear I am out of luck this afternoon. Nothing more than a bloody place finish in the second race. How are you getting on, Mr Darcy?"

"Not bad," Darcy said. "Had a win in the first race, and a place in the fourth. I've had better days though."

"Do you come here often?" Lizzy asked him.

"Not as often as I'd like," he addressed her smoothly, not missing a beat. "I'm called away on business a lot and the weekends I am here are normally too busy at Pemberley for me to make the time."

"A damn shame," Hugo butted in. "Truly the sport of kings."

"Indeed." Darcy raised his glass.

"We must thank you again for the rental car this morning, Mr Darcy…." Eddie began before he was interrupted.

"Please, call me Will," he insisted, saw Georgiana give him a sideways look. "Mr Darcy makes me sound so old."

"Ok then, Will," Eddie smiled. "The car was a godsend. Otherwise we'd have had to get up at 5am like this maniac here."

"Early bird catches the worm," Hugo chuckled before turning once again to Darcy. "I like to get here early, get a feel for the meet, see if I can pick up any last minutes tips."

"And how has that gone for you?" Darcy raised an eyebrow.

He didn't like him, Lizzy confirmed to herself. He was mocking him in that way he did, the blurred line between teasing and disdain. That was good. The last thing they needed was for Darcy to decide that their mark was actually an alright person and shut them down.

"Not so well," Hugo laughed. "But the day is still young."

"Well, I wish you good luck. I must take my leave and go and find my friends."

"Bring them up!" Hugo suggested with aplomb. "The more the merrier."

Please don't, Darcy.

"You are very kind, but we have some business to discuss before we head into town for the evening," he replied, much to all of their relief. "Wouldn't want to bore you with all that."

"If you're sure," Hugo deflated a bit before recovering. "Anyway, we're off early tomorrow morning so this is may well be goodbye. Thank you for your hospitality, your hotel is truly something special."

"Yes, thank you, Will." Eddie shook his hand, apparently keen on bringing this to a close.

"My pleasure. Enjoy the rest of your day."

He nodded and smiled at them before he walked away. Georgiana sloped off behind him with barely a glance at them, but she did at least give Lizzy a reminder that she was still he same girl she'd met when she brushed past her.

"Work it, girl." she muttered before she too was gone, and they were left as they had started.

"A true gentleman." Hugo announced to the room.

Oh, Hugo, she thought again. If only you knew…..

"A lovely man," Stacy agreed. "If a little reserved and serious."

"It's how one has to be in business," Hugo explained patronisingly. "Speaking of, Peter, I was hoping we could slip off for a quick chat seeing as there's no race for the next half hour or so. I may just have a business proposal of my own…."

This was it. Hugo was putting his plan into action. He was about to offer 'Peter Hayward' the money for his 'prized' horse. It was actually happening, it had actually fucking worked.

Kept her face neutral however. The dance was all on the inside.

Not over yet, she reminded herself. Not over yet.

"What say we go in search of some Brandy then, Hugo?" Eddie replied, Lizzy could appreciate the grift, the slight hesitancy and confusion that he put into his tone. An artist.

"An excellent idea! Will you be ok up here, ladies?"

"I'm sure your friends will look after us," Stacy smiled. "You two go and enjoy yourselves."

The smile Stacy gave them was small and reserved, but Lizzy knew what it meant.

They'd done it.

They'd won.

* * *

Should have known that she wouldn't be able to sleep. Turned over once again, her face aching from the smile that hadn't left her face since she'd shut her hotel room door and had been able to finally let the mask slip. Let Lizzy Bennet back out. The pillow was hot against her skin, the sheets rubbed against her uncomfortably. A quarter of a million pounds.

Fucking hell.

The rest of the day had been a blur. They'd had to stay in character for the rest of the meet, plus the rive back and dinner. It was easier for her, she was supposed to be oblivious after all, but for Eddie and Stacy it must have been ten times worse. Just watching them though, watching them grift was thrilling, the way every expression and mannerism was perfect, the looks of relief that the Hayward's supposed financial trouble was over but coupled with the resigned disappointment over losing their pride and joy, their champion race horse. It was yet another master class that she was privilege to be a witness too. They were so good, maybe even in Darcy's league. And there she was, the orphan from London, the angry girl who should have been written off long ago, next to them. She'd done her bit.

£250,000.

Turned over again. It was no good. The adrenaline was still there, she didn't know if she'd ever be able to sleep again. This was what it felt like to be on top of the world, no sex or drug could ever come close to it, surely. Sat up in bed with what was supposed to be a resigned sigh, but instead came a gleeful chuckle. Glanced at the television, but she'd already tried that. She shouldn't leave the room, she knew that, but she was just so restless. Hugo and his pals would surely be asleep by now, they'd drunk enough to make sure of that. Struggled into a pair of jeans, hands still shaking from the nervous excitement that threatened to bubble up out of her, and threw on a hoody over her t-shirt. It wasn't a particularly cold night by Scottish standards so she thought that that would be enough. Needed to be outdoors, walk around aimlessly and revel in her victory.

Opened and closed her door soundlessly and made her way to the lift, getting off at the ground floor. She wouldn't go far, wouldn't be long. Slipped out a fire door just down from reception, didn't want anyone to see her. Felt relief as soon as the cool air hit her, as soon as she was out in the open. Padded around the side of the building towards the trees, knowing she could walk just inside the wooded area under the cover of darkness, following the perimeter and come to the back of the lake that stretched out in front of the hotel. No-one would see her, no-one would interrupt her. Wandered at a slow pace, reaching out her hand to touch the leaves covered in condensation, rubbing her fingers together and enjoying the cool sensation against her skin. Lizzy Bennet, long con player. Sounded good, sounded right.

All of a sudden she heard a thud next to her. Looked down to see a football nestled on the ground to her left.

"FUCKING HELL, WILL! " she heard the unmistakable Scottish accent of Richard Fitzwilliam shout. "DID THEY NOT TEACH YOU HOW TO KICK A FOOTBALL AT PRIVATE SCHOOL? ALL THAT FUCKING MONEY..."

Lifted her head up too late. Registered the orange glow which she would later find out to be the dying embers of a fire, registered the shadow making it's way towards her. All too late.

No time to run. No time to hide.

Saw the shock. Saw the surprise. Saw the recognition. Saw the smirk.

"Well, well, well," he laughed as he came upon her. "Isn't little Anna Hayward out late?"

What a prick.

* * *

 **AN - Hello again, hope you enjoyed this one, let me know what you think although this one is kind of filler. On the plus side, the next one should be up within a week and will be based solely around interaction between E and Darcy's old crew. Yet more dialougue for us to wade through...**

 **PS - Whoever reviewed about the Les Mis references now has me going back through to try to find them as they weren't done on purpose and I am curious. There is a strong chance I have plagarised haha. Do you hear the people sing and all that shit.  
**


	28. Cold Deck

"Well, well, well. Isn't little Anna Hayward out late?"

Prick

She was tempted to keep it up. Anna Hayward that is. Just to keep up the pretence, just to give herself some degree of control. Ever since she had came to Pemberley she'd been turning from one crisis into another at the speed of light, constantly at a disadvantage, constantly at a loss. And like this one, she had mostly created them herself by not sticking to the rules. So here she was again, face to face with another ghost from her recent past for the second time in a day. Was tempted to keep it up….

But she didn't. Keep it up that is.

Because she was tired. So fucking tired. Not physically, she'd ran away from non existent sleep after all, but mentally. Her mind was not ready for yet more scrutiny, for yet more puzzles to be solved, for yet more lies to be analysed. Lies upon lies upon lies. What her whole life was built on. Games within games she didn't want to play right now. So she resigned herself to it. Resigned herself to being Lizzy Bennet again.

"What's the story then, Anna?" Richard smirked, his glasses wet with condensation, his trousers muddy, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

"Fuck are you doing here?" she sneered, attack as the best form of defense. Didn't want to answer him, didn't want to admit it, to seem weak.

"I don't know if you'd heard but I happen to know the owner of this fine establishment," he continued to smirk. "He's a bit of an arsehole but what can you do?"

"Just leave me alone, Richard." she sighed.

"And what kind of gentleman would that make me? Leaving a woman out in the Scottish highlands all alone in the middle of the night?"

"Did the last fifty years not happen to you? I dunno if you'd heard but women are even allowed to vote these days." she bit sarcastically.

"Oh gosh, are they?" he gasped. "Crazy times."

"You're such a prick."

"Never pretended to be anything else," he spread his arms wide. "Come on, Lizzy, answer the question. What are you doing out here?"

"You first." she resigned herself to the conversation.

"Bit of a tradition," Richard began. "Every time we're all together at Pemberley we come out to the lake with some whisky, start a fire and have ourselves a bit of a knees up. To be honest we normally just take the piss out of Charlie and wait for Caro to say something objectionable or offensive. Passes the time."

"You sing Kumbaya as well?" she sneered.

"Oh absolutely!" he laughed. "Kumbaya, African rain dance, sacrifices to the Grifter God, you know the like."

"Grifter God?" she questioned, couldn't help herself. Richard had an uncanny knack of drawing you in with his nonsense.

"Aye, the Grifter God." he nodded seriously.

"You dropped acid tonight?" she asked, a fair question given his current line of conversation.

"If only," he sighed. "Honestly this crew is so clean living it's ridiculous. Even makes me miss George sometimes…. I mean the lad's a cunt but he'd always have a substance on him."

"So who's the God?" she pressed.

"You're serious?" he asked mock incredulous. "How have you gone through life as a Grifter not knowing where we were all birthed from? Well sit down, Elizabeth, and let me educate you."

"I'm fine where I am. This ain't gonna be a long one is it? You're already starting to bore me."

"Hey, Darcy's the boring one. Ok, ok, young padawan. Allow me to blow your mind. _So, in the beginning God created man in his own image._ Little arrogant don't you think? _Anyway, there they were, Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden. And God said_ " _You are free to eat from any tree in the garden; but you must not eat from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, for when you eat from it you will certainly die."_

"Richard, is this when you ask me if I have accepted the Lord Jesus into my life?" Lizzy narrowed her eyes, causing him to laugh.

"Do not interrupt the word of God!" he chastised, eyes twinkling before continuing on. " _Now the serpent was more crafty than any of the wild animals the Lord God had made. He said to the woman, "Did God really say, 'You must not eat from any tree in the garden'?"_

 _The woman said to the serpent, "We may eat fruit from the trees in the garden,_ _but God did say, 'You must not eat fruit from the tree that is in the middle of the garden, and you must not touch it, or you will die.'"_

" _You will not certainly die," the serpent said to the woman._ " _For God knows that when you eat from it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil."_

 _So Eve took the apple, and God cursed man for all eternity."_

He finished with a flourish, looking at her expectantly.

"And…." she asked, confused.

"Don't you see, Lizzy? The snake, well, the snake was the first Grifter!"

"Oh Jesus…."

"I know, I know," Richard nodded, seriously. "As I promised, mind blown."

"Where do you get this shit from?"

"Ach, I saw it on some TV show," he waved her off with a chuckle, serious facade crumbling to be replaced by that cocky grin. "Use it sometimes to pick up short con players at card games. Surprisingly high success rate…"

"You're a pig." she snorted, but she couldn't help but laugh.

"You know it's a shame you and Caro don't get on. You have a remarkable overlap in opinions. Don't worry about it by the way."

"Don't worry about what?" she asked, confused by the about turn in conversation and the sudden seriousness of his tone.

"Why you're out here. No-one sleeps after a score. No-one. Doesn't matter how many times you've done it, how many times the parts been played, how many times the curtain falls, how many times the chapters ended. How do you come down from that? How can you come down from such a perfect high? You're with the Gardiners, right? I guarantee they're tossing and turning as we speak. Actually scratch that, married couple, they're probably shagging like animals."

"Can't help yourself can you?"

"It's part of my charm."

"You call it charm, I call it being a twat."

"The two often go hand in hand." he laughed again.

"Whatever, I'm leaving now." she started to move past him.

"Hey come on, Lizzy!" he implored. "I thought we were friends."

"You lied to me from day one, bugged my hotel room," she said derisively. "Not exactly what I'd call a friendship."

"Just doing my job. Have to admit, hell of a score…."

"It was ok." Lizzy shrugged. "Little bit rough around the edges if you ask my opinion."

"God, you really don't like us do you?" Richard chuckled. "Can't even admit to our greatness."

"Good to see you're remaining humble."

"Is pride not justified if it's earnt?" Richard shot back, shooting her back to all those months ago in the Netherfield when Darcy had said something remarkably similar. She'd mocked him then.

"Pride's one thing, arrogance another."

"And of course, you've never been guilty of arrogance," Richard raised his eyebrow at her. "Come on just admit it was a good score."

"Of course it was a fucking good score," she muttured. "Darcy's a genius."

"Hey! What about me?" he exclaimed, mock offended. "I'm the greatest Fixer to ever play the game, right?"

"If you say so, Richard." she finally let out the laugh that she'd wanted to for a while at his petulance. Felt better, felt free.

"Darcy always gets the credit." he muttered darkly, but Lizzy knew he was just pretending.

"It was his plan right?"

"Technicalities," he brushed her off with a smile before he gestured to the forgotten football nestled in the ground next to her. "Anyway I better get this back. Mind you, I think Darcy kicked it all the way over here just so he could stop playing with me. Private schooling, more of a rugby type, you know? Come on, let's go see the others."

"No, I best be getting back," she attempted to extract herself, ignoring the jolt in her stomach at the thought of seeing Darcy again. "He won't want to see me."

"We both know that's not true." Richard smirked, glint firmly in his eye.

"Don't go there," she warned. "Anyway, he thinks I'm trying to rob him, thinks the whole Hugo Chamberlain thing's a misdirection and that he's our real mark."

"That would probably just turn him on even more," Richard teased mercilessly. "Besides, he doesn't think that. He had me run backgrounds on you all as soon as he saw you."

"Of course he did.." Lizzy muttered, by now used to the invasion of privacy that came with knowing these people.

"And I, the greatest Fixer in the game, turned up nothing so therefore there is nothing to turn up. Even your child prodigy Hacker didn't catch my malware in his system. Kid's still green."

"I'll pass that on. But seriously, Richard, I need to go."

"By all means then," he gestured vaguely back in the direction of the hotel. "If that's what you really want then go. But I'm not sure that is what you want. And besides, if you come with me I can offer you a free slap on Charlie Bingley…"

Charlie Bingley. Just hearing the name cause the rage to fill her like it used to, like it always had before she'd began this journey. These days she could keep it in check, could control the anger that was constantly begging to burst out of her, but it was still an everyday battle. And here it came again, a tidal wave crashing over her. All her suppression tactics disappearing in the smoke rings of her mind. Charlie Bingley. The man who'd seemed the very best of them, the most charming, the most sincere, the most fucking real, before revealing himself as the falsest of all. He'd honey trapped her sister, seduced them all with his words and nice guy facade before leaving behind a trail of devastation, a path littered with confusion, hurt, betrayal and crushed hopes. Jane. How could anyone do that to Jane?

OK, she knew the hypocrisy. It had been spelled out to her enough times by Darcy and even were all Grifters, they were all criminals, they were all immoral, blah blah blah. She thought she'd softened her stance, Darcy's justifications had wormed their way into her to such an extent that it was worrying. Since when did she start agreeing with the prick? And Jane as well, given some distance had agreed with him. Charlie was doing his job, nothing more. Did that make it ok? Right or wrong, that was something she didn't deal in, none of them did. There was no such thing.

It didn't matter. All that mattered was that in this moment she wanted to hurt Charlie Bingley.

"Should have led with that." she stated darkly, starting off towards the dying embers, steel in her eyes, ignoring Richard's laughter.

* * *

She approached quickly, tread soft through the fallen leaves, strides long and purposeful. She could make them out now as she drew closer. As was custom, her eyes immediately locked onto the unmistakable form of Darcy. He was lying down, legs bent at the knee, the smoke from his cigarette twisting and turning, crowning them all in thin streams of gas. Smoke rings for halos she snorted inwardly. Caroline was sat on a chair, her perfect form obvious even in the dark. And he was next to her. Standing up, bottle swinging sloppily from one hand, the other gesticulating animatedly. Judging by Darcy's deep chuckle he was obviously in the midst of some kind of anecdote. Anger rising and rising. He didn't get to laugh.

She was there now. She saw Darcy out the corner of her eye sit up in surprise, but her gaze was firmly on the mark. He turned just as she finally arrived to him, eyes widening in shock, bottle slipping from his hand landing with a soft clunk. It didn't matter.

She punched him square in the nose.

"Fuck!" he exclaimed, staggering back clutching his face. She went to go for him again, but she stopped as Charlie's eyes flicked up to hers. Stopped mid motion, fist raised, breathing heavily. And she saw it all in him. The surprise, the pain, the hurt. It stopped her in her tracks. He looked so pathetic, hunched over, blood spilling from his nose, crestfallen doe eyes wide and dull. None of the usual gleam.

"The first one's free, all things considered," she vaguely heard Caroline drawl over the blood pounding in her ears. "But if you touch my brother again I'll make you into fucking gloves. Like I actually know someone who can do that."

"He honey trapped my sister." she snarled, but the anger was evaporating quickly.

"Fine, fine, one more then." Caroline sighed.

"Hey!" Charlie finally found his voice, his eyes not leaving Lizzy. "How's that fair? If I'm getting smacked about then the rest of you should to. It was yours and Darcy's plan, Caro."

"Stop being a pussy, Bingley, and take your punishment like a man." Richard chortled somewhere from behind her, thoroughly enjoying himself.

"Charlie is right," Darcy put a gentle hand on Lizzy's raised fist, lowering it cautiously and slowly. "We are all equally to blame, Lizzy."

"Do you want to get hit, Darcy?" Richard hissed.

"Is that it, Will?" Caroline asked, a hint of mischief in her tone. "Fancy a bit of rough from your bit of rough? Whatever turns you on I suppose…."

His hand was still on hers. She wasn't sure which of them was trembling. Looked into his eyes to see concern etched on his face, Caroline's taunts barely heard above the white noise. She realised that it didn't matter where they were or how many people were around the two of them, he always made her feel alone, like they were the only two people for miles. It was frustrating, exhilarating, hell she didn't know anymore.

A light cough sounded and she pulled her hand away from his as if scalded.

"So, I found Lizzy." Richard chimed in unnecessarily, diffusing the tension slightly.

"Thank you for that, Colonel," Caroline laughed slightly. "You do like to make an entrance don't you, Elizabeth?"

"He honey trapped my sister." Lizzy repeated.

" _We_ honey trapped your sister," Darcy corrected. "Do not put all the blame on Charlie."

"Forgive me for being confused, but what is all this talk of blame?" Caroline questioned. "We are all Grifters here are we not?"

"I'm sorry, Lizzy," Charlie spoke up, almost pleading with her. "You don't know how sorry I am. I had to do it, they're my family, Jane was talking to the police, I had to do it…."

He really was sorry, she could see that. It was time to end this.

"Tell him." she turned back to Darcy.

"Lizzy…." he warned her, eyes flicking to the others.

"Tell him all of it." she pressed.

"Tell me what, Will?" Charlie asked, confused.

"Stop this, Lizzy," Richard took a step forward, for once deadly serious. "It's over now, there's no point."

"What are you all talking about?" Charlie half shouted.

"Look at him for fuck sake," Lizzy gestured, still staring at Darcy, imploring him to do the right thing at last. "Just tell him all of it, tell him what you did."

"Will someone please tell me what the fuck is going on?" Charlie howled desperately.

Darcy closed his eyes and turned away from her, staring into the fire. She knew what he was thinking, she knew there was a part of him that regretted his actions. Caroline, Richard and he had made it look like the police were coming for Charlie, made it look as if Jane was perhaps working with them or at least in contact with them. Drafting in The Italian no less. It was time for this small bit of truth to come out, time for just one sliver of honesty from them.

Just needed some truth tonight.

"It's no longer my decision." Darcy finally broke the silence, eyes on Caroline.

It wasn't often that Lizzy felt sorry for Caroline Bingley, but in this moment she felt for her. Finally saw the mask crack, finally saw the hint of emotion as she gazed on her brother.

"You're in charge now, Caro. It's your call." Darcy stated.

"Caroline," Charlie moved to kneel in front of her, clasping both her hands in his. "What is it, tell me."

She paused for a moment before collecting herself.

"Doesn't look like we have a choice does it?" she sighed. "But this is yours, Darcy, it was your idea, shit it was your whole score. Fucking own it."

"As you wish."

And so Darcy told him. Told him all of it. All of the deception, the lies they had strung together to force him away from her sister. Charlie listened in silence, his expression unreadable. Caroline's gaze remained firmly on a fixed point in the sky, never wavering, never once flicking to her brother. She didn't want to watch this Lizzy realised, didn't want to see her brother hurt. Richard paced up and down as Darcy spoke carefully and considered, sometimes pausing and almost making towards the stoic Charlie before he stopped himself and pulled back, resuming his purposeless purpose. Darcy stuck to facts, he didn't shroud his story in the justification that were his trademark, didn't appeal to any emotion, he just told him. Unlike Caroline, his eyes never left Charlie.

When he was finished, silence descended. Nobody moved for what seemed like an age. And then Charlie let out a short and sharp laugh, piercing the silence like a knife. It wasn't his usual deep chuckle full of mirth and wonder, it was cold and dull and seemed to break at the very seams. He shook his head once and then turned slowly, walking away from them all, steps heavy and deliberate. They watched him walk away slowly, it was all slow motion. By the time he'd eventually been swallowed by the darkness, Richard turned to Darcy.

"The fact he didn't punch you worries me." he said quietly, and Lizzy could hear the strain in his voice.

"It's not his style," Darcy sighed. "The only time I've even seen him angry was that time in the Desert…."

"That wasn't anger in the Desert," Caroline said quietly and sadly. "That was rage. He can shout and scrap with the best of them when he wants to, but it's never from a place of anger. No, what we just saw is anger."

"You should go after him." Lizzy directed towards Caroline, suddenly feeling guilty for forcing the issue, for making this happen, for ripping a family apart.

"Trust me, I'm the last person who should try to talk to him right now," Caroline dismissed her. "Darcy, Richard, go check he's ok."

"I'll come with you." Lizzy asserted, keen to get away from the fire she had started as soon as possible. Didn't miss the way Caroline raised an eyebrow at Darcy who looked quickly away, as if embarassed by something.

"Are you forgetting you're supposed to be in the middle of a score, Anna Hayward?" Caroline drawled, tone seeped in patronism. "How would it look if you waltz back into the hotel with three known Con Men?"

Lizzy could have kicked herself for not thinking before she spoke. For looking so weak in front of them, looking so naive and out of her depth. Because whatever her feelings were, she wanted to impress them she realised, harking back to Jane's words all those months ago. As a point of pride, as a fuck you, whatever, she wanted them to know she was in the big league now, that she'd proved them wrong.

"Come on, Darcy." Richard sighed with worry.

"Will you be ok here, Miss Bennet?" he asked stiffly, reminding her of how she used to perceive him, all cold with formality.

"She'll be fine," Caroline snapped. "As much as I imagine neither of us are thrilled by the prospect of being alone together, I'm sure we'll survive without you. Now go and sort this mess out."

They were gone with a conciliatory nod from Darcy, leaving Lizzy and Caroline alone in each others company for the first time in their short acquaintance.

* * *

Neither spoke for a moment, the awkwardness and tension as delicate as a filigree.

"I still can't get used to giving the orders," Caroline broke the silence thoughtfully. "When it's just the three of us it's fine, but when Darcy's around it just feels wrong, like we're in some alternate reality. We spent so long following him and now he's gone."

"We gonna tell all our secrets and braid each others hair, Caroline?" Lizzy mocked.

"I honestly don't know what people see in you, Lizzy, I really don't." Caroline sighed out.

"Ditto." Lizzy spat back.

"I mean, aesthetically I can kind of see the appeal," Caroline raked her eyes over her, leaving Lizzy feeling exposed. "But you have to be one of the most willfully ignorant people I have ever had the displeasure of associating with."

"Again, ditto." Lizzy worked hard to control herself.

"And why do you keep showing back up? Why are you always fucking here?"

"I keep asking myself the same question. Look, it's not my fault we were part of your score, not my fault that my crews mark chose Pemberley to stay in. It's just one of those things."

"You're mark's the man we met earlier?" Caroline asked.

"Yeah, Hugo Chamberlain. We closed it this afternoon, just waiting on the cash now."

"You're Cool Out?"

"Hugo's keen to keep it off the books for tax purposes, so by the time the horse gets to his stables and he realises it's a dud there's nothing he can do. If he calls the police then he admits to tax fraud. We just disappear like smoke and he goes home and cries."

"Got to love it when a mark does all the hard work for you." Caroline snorted.

"Honestly, the score was beautiful," Lizzy boasted, finally claiming back some pride. "Down to a tee, it's just perfect. £250,000. Easy."

Caroline looked at her with an inscrutable expression before her eyes lit up with understanding.

"Oh, you don't know, do you?" she breathed out, tone full of amusement.

"Know what?" Lizzy asked, confused.

"Oh, this is priceless," Caroline threw her head back and laughed. "I was wondering why you were boasting about it, but you actually don't understand do you?"

"What do you mean?" Lizzy questioned, Caroline raising her eyebrows in that mocking way again.

"Taking Hugo Chamberlain is like taking candy from a baby. They've Cold Decked it, Lizzy. The Gardiner's I mean. They chose Hugo Chamberlain because he was as easy as easy can be. You think Grifter's with their experience would let a Short Con player like yourself work an actual mark with real stakes?"

"He is an actual mark, we just took him for £250000 for fuck sake!" Lizzy bristled.

"There's marks and then there's _marks_. They'll have been sitting on him for months, maybe even years," Caroline explained, glint in eye. "Just waiting for the right time, when they needed to test some new recruits out. Hugo Chamberlain, I ask you. It was a test, Elizabeth, a test to see if you were up to scratch. Don't you see, it's a classic Cold Deck. The cards were stacked before you even entered the game, they knew it was a no risk score. Well, at least it was no risk until you managed to turn it into a bloody drama. I'm sensing a pattern emerging. And you go and brag about taking Hugo Chamberlain like you're some Grifting genius. It's a set up, Lizzy. Every crew has a Hugo Chamberlain ready to go for when they need to test out some new blood. I've got two of them ready for when I start looking for a new Inside Man."

Was it true? Had she been Cold Decked? Because it had been easy hadn't it? When you really thought about it, it had been remarkably so. The only hiccups were…

Oh God. The only hiccups had been entirely related to her. She'd turned a slam dunk into an underside of the bar job. She'd made it so much harder than it actually should have been.

"Now you're getting it." Caroline nodded with a laugh.

"What difference does it make if it's a sure thing or not?" Lizzy attempted to cling to something. "Hugo's still real, the £250000 is still real. Money's money, why wouldn't you take the easier option, the sure thing?"

Caroline looked her straight in the eye, disappointment etched across her face and uttered the phrase she knew was coming, why all of them did this.

"It's not about the money."

"You parrot Darcy but I don't think you believe that for one second. I know you, Caroline, I know who you are. You do this for the money, you do it for your ego. You don't do this for the right reasons…"

"Is that so?" Caroline said, a hint of steel crackling.

"You're just another stuck up, posh snob who looks down on everyone."

"Because you know me so well?"

"Yeah, I know your type." Lizzy sneered.

"You still don't get it, do you?" Caroline laughed softly. "How many times do you have to be lied too to understand? How many times? You're smart, Lizzy, you're tough, there's something about you, I see that. But honestly, you are so far behind the game it's laughable."

"There are no games here, it's just me and you." Lizzy pointed out.

"It's all a game, can't you see that!" Caroline stood up quickly, waving her arms. "I'm a fucking _Grifter_! You say you know me, but the only things you know about me are what I've allowed you to know. All of it, your construction of me, wasn't created by you! How can you be so arrogant to think it? You know what _I want you to know_ , you think what _I want you to think_! Nothing more, nothing less."

"I don't believe you.." Lizzy trailed off, but her mind was whirring.

Caroline smiled at her.

"This is why you're so far behind, Lizzy," Caroline continued softly. It took a second but Lizzy noticed it. The jarring change. The clipped tone, the ever present condescension, the perfect vowels and the plum accent disappearing and in it's place the broad lilt of Northern England, the elongated vowels, the clipped endings, the dropping of the h's, the way the words melded into each other without pause. The Mancunian in all her glory.

" _Charlie and Caroline grew up with very little ….. I saw them first in Manchester, oh seven years ago now…."_

" _Richard had discovered the Bouzid's whilst tying up a few loose ends in Manchester…"_

It was all a lie. She was a lie.

"We're women in a man's game, Lizzy," Caroline shrugged at her, but the woman in front of her was a different person, the once stiff body now looser, the face normally so hard and cold all of a sudden warm and open. "You have to become who you need to be. I became who I needed to be to get by, to be taken seriously by those fucking pricks in The Ton. To be taken seriously by Grifters not worth half of me calling me 'love' and 'darling', patronising me with their fucking obnoxiousness. Men I could run rings round thinking I was just Darcy's 'bit of skirt', the 'bird' in the crew, just there to look pretty for when it was needed, just there to add some window dressing. Nah, mate, fuck that, something had to change, I had to change. They want posh, I'll give them posh. They want a bitch, I'll give them a bitch. So I became someone else, I made it so my whole life was a Grift. Shit, even my own crew fell for it. You think I don't see them rolling their eyes, complaining about how 'difficult' I am now? But what about now? The best Grifter's in the world saw me running that score in Vegas, me not Darcy. I was the face of it, they all took instructions from me. And now I have my own crew. I'm leading the best Fixer, the best Roper, the best crew in the world. All because I live this. This isn't a job for me, Lizzy, this is life. Where I start and end…. Shit, I'm just a Grifter I suppose."

Lizzy stared slack jawed at Caroline Bingley, no that wasn't right, Caroline _Bouzid_.

"Now tell me, Lizzy," she heard through the fog, "Do you still want to be a Grifter? Do you even believe you can be?"

And for the first time, Lizzy wasn't sure at all.

* * *

 **AN - One week, five months, same thing...**


	29. Slide

The dying flames danced, twisting and turning, crackling and popping, violent orange meshing with the dark black burns. Drew her hood closer around her face and stared and stared. Caroline had left wordlessly after dropping her bombshell and shattering Lizzy completely. And now here she was at 3am, staring into someone else's fire surrounded by the litter of someone else's party, winter's chill biting into her flesh, alone. Alone again.

Always alone really.

She didn't expect the fire to give her any answers but still she stared. Because to move would mean a decision had been made. Either way. Another proverbial crossroads. How many of those were going to present themselves to her? Was she just not getting the hint? So many opportunities, so many chances to get out of this game, to become someone else all over again. We're always changing, in every life you're so many people it's impossible to count. What is it Darcy had said? ' _I've been many people, some good, some bad, most somewhere in between_ '. Was it time to change again? To just let it fucking go, be done with all this. Lying, cheating, scamming, repeat, repeat, repeat. An hour ago, she'd been on such a perfect high, just making this come down even more fierce. Remembered the first time she'd tried Ecstasy as a fifteen-year-old, reveling in the euphoria, of the lights blinding her eyes, the way the anger disappeared and the love bubbled up, filling every inch of her. And then came the crash the next day, the dry throat, the aching limbs, the self-loathing. Temporary fixes are only ever temporary. But this? This was even worse than that. Back then she'd been on a road to oblivion anyway, what did it matter? Now however she'd been working for something for years, molding herself into a Grifter, a professional liar, someone who could _be_ something in this fucking mess of a world, someone who could _do_ something. She was going to have the world, wasn't she?

Stupid fucking naivety.

She didn't want to become like Caroline Bouzid. She didn't want to live like that, hide the parts of her that made her her, lie to her friends and family, becoming who she needed to be, not who she wanted to be. She'd always seen Grifting as the opposite, a way of life entirely your own, dictating the terms and conditions, outside of the controlling minority, apart from a brainwashed majority who worshipped false idols and revered men and women who made fortunes off the back of countless suffering. Famine and death and pestilence and war. But now she saw Grifting for the con it was, Caroline had showed her that.

Hands brushed against card as she ran it through the grass damp with dew, picking up a battered cigarette box probably left by Darcy. He smokes too much, she smiled despite herself. Flicked the lid open and took the solitary and lonely stick out, placing it between her lips and leaning down towards the wailing corpse of a fire, cupping the flame with two hands. Inhale deeply, exhale slowly, two thin streams of glorious destruction blowing out from her nostrils. Why were the most perfect things in life always the ones that destroy said life eventually? Cigarettes, alcohol, drugs, love, Grifting….

Was scared. A new one for her really. Even when things were at their most desperate, before all this, before Jane, she'd never been afraid of anything, not properly. So brave. Always brave. Always alone, but always brave. Bravery that came from ignorance and a remarkable lack of self-worth, a blatant disregard for herself that manifested itself in fearlessness. She wasn't that person anymore. She had things to lose now. And she felt it slipping away, that surety of direction dying right alongside the fire. For so long she'd wanted to play the Long Con, to be mentioned in the same breath as the greats, to find a place. Always alone. Always looking for a place. It's why she'd latched onto the Bennet's and put up with all of Frances's shit for all those years. She just wanted to belong somewhere. And she latched onto Grifting because she was good at it, and she wanted to be good at something. It never leaves you, you see. Being an orphan never leaves you, however much you may try to run from it. Without a family, without a home, without the fucking _basics_. You start with nothing and work it from there. How can you do that? Well, when you find something to live for whether it's worth it or not, you put everything into it, replace the void with something at least, with anything.

It was already changing her, that was the worst thing. The way she'd attacked Charlotte, her dismissal of Jane only hours previously, the way she hadn't spared her old friends a thought in months. Better than them now, bigger than them now. No time, no time. A score to be played, progress to be made, costumes to dress up in and masks to put on. Walker, not Bennet. The con was changing her. She was on her way to becoming just like them.

' _Just do me a favor, don't become like me, don't lose sight of who you are.'_

Who was she? Where did she start and end?

* * *

"I've never seen you smoke before." a quiet voice she knew all too well sounded next to her. She didn't turn to face him, didn't want him to see her like this. Not him.

"There's a lot of things you don't know about me, Darcy." she attempted to brave it out, but the break in her voice gave her away.

It was this moment when everything changed. It had been coming, she knew that subconsciously at least, the game the two of them had been playing had changed now, morphed into something different. She didn't see him how she used to, didn't see him as the objectionable and arrogant man he came across as.

It wasn't what he did in that moment, more what he didn't do. He didn't try to talk to her, he didn't press her for anything, he didn't demand anything from her. He just sat down next to her and stared into the fire with her, the two of them lost in a different kind of potent silence. It wasn't the charged electricity she was used to, it was just … Well it was just comforting. A silence of acceptance. And as he took the cigarette from between her fingers and blew smoke out into the night air, she chanced a glance at him. He didn't make eye contact, but he knew she was looking and he just shrugged with a small laugh. And she laughed back. Two people who had always been alone, aware of what they'd done to others and each other, aware of the mess they'd made of their lives.

"How's Charlie?" she finally broke the silence.

"Not great," Darcy admitted with a sigh. "It became very clear that I was the last person he wanted to talk to. I left him with Richard and a bag of weed, in Richards eyes there is no problem that cannot be solved with drugs. Maybe he's right. God, I miss drugs…."

She laughed at his candid admission.

"I'm sorry," she said after a while. "Sorry for forcing your hand with him."

"We'd have had to tell him sooner or later," he dismissed her apology. "It's better this way. He'll come around eventually, he's too fucking decent to hold a grudge. He's not like me."

"Not like _us_." Lizzy corrected with a tight smile.

"Perhaps. Do you think ….. Well do you think that she'd ever forgive him?"

"I don't know," Lizzy answered honestly. "It's a hell of a thing to get over, innit? The man you thought you loved turning out to be a fake."

"You're right of course. I hope …. Well shit I don't know….."

"The great Will Darcy admitting to not knowing something," she teased lightly, bumping her shoulder into his. "Have we gone to some alternate reality?"

"Very amusing." he smiled back.

"Thank you, I am hilarious."

They were close now. She hadn't moved her shoulder away and she was leaning slightly into him. Felt safe, felt comforted. Didn't feel alone.

"How can you live out here, in the middle of nowhere," she looked around them. "It's too quiet."

"We're a twenty-minute drive from one of Europe's premier cities, Lizzy, we're hardly in the middle of nowhere." he laughed.

"Alright," she conceded." But you know what I mean though."

"It's home I suppose," he said. "Where I grew up, where my parents lived, where my family has always been. And as you know, I spent an awful amount of time attempting to get it back, it would all be for nothing if I turned around and said I didn't want to live here. Mind you, it might be worth it to see the look on Caro's face after all the shit I put her through. God, she'd be furious. But no, this is where we need to be right now, Georgiana and I."

"I met her the other day," Lizzy revealed. "Did she tell you?"

"She rarely tells me anything," Darcy frowned. "What did you think of her?"

"She's like you." Lizzy shrugged.

"God, don't tell her that, she'll probably punch you," Darcy laughed, but there was a sadness behind it as well.

"I met her as Anna Hayward. She saw through me straight away."

"She's been around liars for too long," Darcy said. "Comes a point where you can spot them a mile off."

"How's she coping?"

"Truthfully, I don't know," Darcy let out a heavy sigh. "She's always been difficult to read I suppose. Even when she was younger. And with prison, well, it changes you I guess. I went to meet her at the gates when they let her out, God I was terrified. Have you ever seen the film The Third Man? No? Long story short, the final scene is at a funeral where two characters see each other for the first time in a long while, two characters with a history, who have been through so much together. And she sees him and then ignores him completely, head held high and aloof, walks straight on by. It's fucking devastating. And it was all I could think about in the days leading up to her release, what if she did that? What if she just looked straight through me? The worst thing was I wouldn't have blamed her. But thankfully she didn't. She acknowledged my presence at least. She was cold and distant, but she was there. And she's still here."

"It'll take time."

"That's what Richard keeps telling me. It's hard though. The way her eyes constantly dart around, the way in every room she's in she keeps to the edges, back against the wall. The way she flinches when someone gets close. I don't know how to talk to her, I don't know how to even begin making up for all I've done to her."

"It's not your fault, Will. Not all of it. Just …. I don't know, be there for her. Shit, I don't deal with this stuff any better than you do."

"Quite the pair we make, eh?" Darcy chuckled. "Two criminals who have no fucking idea what they're doing."

"No-one knows what they're doing," Lizzy mused. "Not really."

They sat for a while longer, each lost in their own thoughts. Lizzy leant her head on his shoulder, reveling in the warmth, in the companionship, in something real. Something real for a change. No motives or hidden agendas, just two worn out people. Directionless people. Because even though in many ways they were polar opposites, despite their backgrounds being worlds apart, she thought he might perhaps be the one person who understood. Understood her and what she was going through. He was an orphan too, a man who had always been alone in the end, a man who still hadn't worked out how to deal with that. Who had no outlet for the anger she knew was within him. Much like her. They were just on different timelines.

"Come on," he nudged her. "Time to get back. I'll walk you."

"I'm Anna Hayward, remember?" she sighed reluctantly. "We can't be seen together."

"Lizzy, I grew up here, I own this hotel. I know how to sneak in with no-one seeing us."

"Just give me five more minutes." she said, leaning back onto his shoulder, wishing time could just slow and slow some more.

* * *

She had to go back eventually. The sun was peeking through the night, snickering at the moonlights pale flicker when they made their way slowly back into the forest, using the trees as cover. And as they walked and talked, Lizzy felt the weight lifting with each passing step in his company. For a while she could just forget who they were and what they'd done. She was currently laughing at Darcy's upbringing, an easy source of comedy as always.

"Honestly, you private school types are always so fucked up."

"Yes, because you are such a shining example for the state school system being superior." Darcy shot back with a grin. When he smiled he looked ten years younger.

"I'll be honest, my school attendance was not exactly exemplary."

"Explains a lot." Darcy joked back, and she swatted him on the arm.

"I attended the University of Life."

"Ah, what was the course, 101 Grifting? And what were the modules? Pickpocketing, poker and The Badger?"

"Precisely. Got a first and everything."

"If I'd of known there was an institution offering such a course I would have transferred instead of dropping out of reading Economics at Cambridge."

"Reading Economics at Cambridge.." Lizzy impersonated his voice with a laugh. "How did you ever survive on the London streets with that accent? Fucking class tourist….. Oh God, you didn't try to fake it did you? Mockney accent and all that."

"Admittedly I did occasionally have to fake it," he cringed. "The people me and George were stealing from were not exactly the types to forgive a posh boy."

"Please do it for me," she smirked at him. "Give me your best working class."

"Certainly not," he laughed. "It would not be worth the lifetime of abuse."

"Lifetime?" Lizzy teased him with a raise of her eyebrows.

"Well…. Um… um," he stuttered. "I didn't mean um …. Obviously, we probably won't see each other again … Oh shut up."

He'd caught sight of her barely holding in a laugh and gave up, looking away with a blush.

She made Will Darcy blush.

"Anyway," she took pity on him, saving him any more embarrassment. "It's a shame, I think you speaking London slang would be one of the best things to ever happen."

"You're a horrible person." he replied.

"Come on then, a test. Let's see if you've still got it, mate. So, what would you do if I said 'crep check'?

"Crep check?" Darcy looked confused. "I don't know, check the pancakes are ready I guess."

"You may be my favorite human," Lizzy cracked up. "I knew this was going to be funny, but that is literally the poshest thing you could have said!"

"What? It's accurate! Crepes are pancakes."

"Not in London, pal," Lizzy gasped for air. "Creps are shoes, trainers. Crep check means check out the shoes."

"That's just ridiculous." Darcy chuckled.

"This is too much fun. Ok, next one, what's a roadman?"

"Someone who works on the motorway? Shit I don't know."

"Nah, it's someone who knows The Ends like the back of his hand."

"What the fuck is 'The Ends'?"

"The neighborhood." Lizzy replied, smiling all the way. This really was fun.

"OK, OK, next." Darcy sighed, but Lizzy knew he was enjoying this, knew he enjoyed being around her. And she enjoyed being around him. What was happening?

"Alright, what about 'peak'? As in this weather is 'peak'."

"So logically, the peak of something is the best of it, so I presume 'peak' means very good."

"I see your thinking, but slang doesn't work logically I'm afraid, Darcy. Peak means the opposite, something very bad. As in you, Darcy, are peak."

"Thanks very much."

"No problem." she said lightly. "Ok, last one, 'peng'."

"I have literally no fucking idea. Londoners are ridiculous."

"'Peng' means fit, good looking. As in you, Darcy, think I, Lizzy, am peng."

"Do I now?" he raised an eyebrow, causing Lizzy to suddenly jolt. She'd said it without thinking really, had been so caught up in the easy banter and light flirting that she hadn't realized she'd stumbled into dangerous territory again. She suddenly felt nervous, hesitant, and it was her turn to blush and look away. Felt his gaze still on her, could imagine his brow scrunched slightly in confusion, could even imagine the small crooked smile that could fill her with warmth if she allowed it to.

"Don't worry about it," he laughed quietly and with a hint of uncertainty. "We both know it's true so let's just leave it at that."

"It's not….. It's not that…" she stumbled, unsure how to precede. She could change everything now if she wanted to, it would be so easy. Reach out a hand, touch him lightly. Part of her wanted to. But the other part of her, this newly awakened fear wouldn't let her.

"What time do you leave?" he asked, changing the subject.

Chances slipping and slipping, crossroads ignored and ignored.

"Soon," she sighed. "Back to London for a bit and then wait to see if Eddie and Stacy want to keep me on. I doubt it after all this."

"You saved their score, Cold Deck or not, you saved it with the way you worked me. They won't forget that."

"You knew it was a Cold Deck then?"

"Not initially. At the races, it became clear."

"You know I'd never have done it, don't you?" she said quietly, almost desperately. "I'd never have gone through with….. You know ….. What I offered you."

"Of course not," Darcy confirmed to her relief. "It was beautifully done. You used what you had on me to make me change my mind. It was a master class in grifting on the spot. Any crew would be lucky to have someone like you, someone who can do that. It was _art_."

"It sounds like it turned you on, Darcy."

Couldn't help herself, could she? Couldn't help but say it, play the game. But was it a game? Were they still playing?

"It did a bit." he admitted in a quiet voice.

They weren't moving anymore, stood stock still under the trees, avoiding each other's eyes.

"I'm sorry," Lizzy touched his hand. "I didn't mean to….. I didn't mean to…. Shit I don't know…"

"It's fine." he murmured, staring at their now entwined hands.

"No, it's not. I can't help myself sometimes, can't help it, you know? I think I'm losing myself in all this, Will."

"What do you mean?" he looked down on her, eyes filled with concern and warmth and something else entirely. Something so fucking real it almost pained her.

"Why do we do this, Will?" she asked in a small voice. "Grifting. Why do we put ourselves through this shit? These days I'm just more confused than ever."

"You know why. We do this because it's all we've fucking got."

"But it ain't," she argued. "You've got a business, a sister, friends. I've got friends back home, people to live for. But they all come second to this, we push them away so we can chase another fix, another score. Why do we do it? Why can't we just be fucking normal? I'm losing myself in all this, Will, it's changing me the way it changed you."

"Then don't let it," he shrugged. "Find a different way of doing things."

"What the hell am I supposed to do?" she asked in frustration.

"My version of the game is not absolute, Lizzy. Me, Caroline, the Gardiners, the fucking Ton. We did it one way. You can do it another. You're not built to be a follower. As much as the Gardiners are excellent Grifters and I'm sure they can teach you a lot, it isn't you, Lizzy. It just isn't. It's not making you happy. So answer me this, when was the last time you were happy? Does Grifting make you happy?"

Did it?

"It used to," she said. "When I was with Jane and Lydia and Kitty, when we were running the streets I think I was happy. But it's not sustainable is it? I've always wanted to play the Long Con, I've always wanted to make something of myself. I can't go back on that."

"Do you want my advice?" he asked softly.

"Ok." she looked up at him, they were close again now.

"I remember what you said to me all those months ago at the Netherfield. About how short con players like yourself found doors constantly shut on them because of the inherit snobbery of the criminal fraternity. You can change that. Go home, Lizzy, go back to London and find those people, find people like you. People who want to have the world. Have the world together. You don't need to start at the bottom, you don't need to join a crew, make connections in The Ton. Do it your way, no-one else's. Kick the doors in, break the wheel."

"Do you think I can?"

"I think you can do anything you want."

She leant up and touched her forehead to his.

"I was happy ten minutes ago," she answered his other question slightly breathlessly. "Just you and me, talking and laughing. I was happy."

"Me too." he sighed.

"Do we have to go back?" she whispered.

"You need to see it through, Lizzy," he said reluctantly, moving away from her, looking down at the ground, pulling his hand away. "They can't get away with it remember. Just be brave again."

They set off back towards the hotel, the pace quicker now. She sighed at his back. The moment was gone. The moment where everything could have changed between them had disappeared into the Scottish sunrise.

Always so brave. Never scared. Always alone.

Only one of those was true.

* * *

It was all a blur as she became Anna Hayward for the final time. Had snuck back into the hotel, said a wordless but loaded goodbye to Darcy, and then headed for the shower, letting the hot jet run over her body, washing away the smell of burning, of cigarettes, of Will Darcy's cologne. She'd wanted to kiss him. She'd wanted him to kiss her. She'd wanted to feel his body pressed against hers as they poured all their sadness and anger into each other. But she hadn't been strong enough. And he'd been hesitant, she knew he didn't trust her totally, knew that there was a part of him that was still smarting from their confrontation at Rosings. Could they ever trust one another ever again? Were they even capable of it?

Wig on, sunglasses on. Inhale deeply, exhale slowly. Looked into the mirror. Just once more. Once more for old times' sake. Looked around the room and out the window one final time, the majesty of Pemberley in all its glory. Could have been hers she snorted. Would she ever see it again?

Knock on the door.

Once more.

"Hugo!" she threw her arms around him as soon as she'd opened the door. "Are you leaving already? It's barely seven o'clock!"

"Business, dear Anna, always business," he explained patronizingly before sniffing her hair in the hug. "Have you been smoking?"

Cigarette smoke never hides as well as you think.

"Please don't tell Mummy and Daddy," she begged, covering as well as she could. "It was just one after last night. I was a little tipsy and some woman offered me one. I didn't like it though."

"Look at you, all grown up," he laughed at her. "Don't worry your secret is safe with me. Speaking of your folks, I better go and say goodbye, just popped down to say farewell to my favorite Hayward!"

"Thank you so much for this weekend, Hugo," she threw her arms around him again. "It's been truly wonderful. And Daddy seems much happier."

"I expect he does," Hugo chuckled. "Mum's the word, Anna, but I think your fortunes may be changing very soon, but you didn't hear it from me, ok?"

"What do you mean?" she asked girlishly, but he just gave her a nauseating wink and took his leave.

"I'll see you soon, Anna!"

"Hugo! Hugo! What do you mean?" she shouted after him playing the part, but he kept on walking like she'd known he would. He was so predictable. Cold Deck indeed.

Shut the door and leant her back against it. It was done. Thank God Hugo had arranged a hire car for them so they could have a lie in and not drive back with him at this godforsaken time of the morning. Didn't think she could have dealt with a five-hour drive back to Yorkshire with him.

Was brought back to reality by her phone buzzing in the locked draw. Moved quickly to unlock it and answered rapidly.

"Jane," she greeted with relief. "Thank God, I really needed to hear your voice. How did you know?"

"Look I don't have time for whatever it is, Lizzy. We've got bigger problems right now."

Of course.

"Lydia," Lizzy stated with a sigh. "What's she done?"

"It's bad, Lizzy."

She knew from Jane's tone that this was serious. It wasn't one of the typical Lydia incidents, she hadn't just got herself locked up or pissed off the wrong Grifter. She'd done something big this time.

"What's happened?"

"It's… fuck, I don't know!" Jane half shouted, worry seeped in her tone. "I haven't seen her in weeks and last night when I was over at Tommo's these two men barged in, demanding to know where she was. They had guns, Lizzy, fucking guns! Tommo managed to talk them down with some creative name dropping of criminals he knew, but they were fucking serious! They said that if Lydia didn't turn up then they'd be forced to take action. What the hell has she done, Lizzy?"

It was always on the cards. Lizzy punched the wall in frustration, in anger. They could have stopped this. She could have stopped this. If she'd just been more present, more patient, more forgiving, she could have stopped this. Lydia had always been a loose cannon, had always been capable of crossing the line. Should have been better, they were family. But no, score to be played, costume to dress up in, mask to put on. Bigger than them now, better than them now. Her own fucking family.

"There's another thing, Lizzy," Jane breathed out. "They asked about George Wickham as well."

George Wickham. The man who'd stolen from Darcy, who'd put Georgianna in prison. The man who hid his cold heart behind his easy charm. Of course Lydia was involved with him. Of course she was. Should have seen it coming, should have seen it coming.

"That fucking _cunt_!" Lizzy raged, punching the wall again. Why hadn't she said something? Why hadn't she done something?

"Look, we don't know how he's involved yet…"

She remembered she hadn't even told Jane. She'd kept George Wickham to herself, Darcy had asked her too after all. She'd thought nothing of it. He'd lost interest anyway, hadn't seen him in months. They had nothing to do with him and he had nothing to do with them. No harm done.

"Look, Jane, I know some things about him, some not good things. She's in deep shit. God, what's he done to her?"

"What do you mean?" Jane asked sharply.

"He's the one who got Will's sister locked up…" she trailed off in a small voice.

"Will? Will Darcy, you mean?"

"The very same."

"And you know this how?" Jane asked suspiciously.

"It doesn't matter, I just do," Lizzy dismissed. "So, what's the plan?"

"You on board now then, yeah?" Jane said with the slight edge of a snarl. "Thought you were busy…"

"Let's not do this now," Lizzy sighed. "We need a plan, what do we know? What's Tommo doing?"

"We've got a name, Alexander Laska. Tommo's asking around, but so far we've got nothing. No idea who this guy is. And Lydia and Wickham have disappeared. Frances hasn't left her room yet, she's fucking broken, keeps wailing and shit. It's all gone to shit, Lizzy."

"Alexander Laska," she turned the name over in her head with a growing sense of dread. "It doesn't ring any bells. You know what that means right?"

"Yeah, I'm afraid I do," Jane confirmed. "If we haven't heard of him it means he's probably big time, organized, connected."

"How the fuck could she be so stupid!" Lizzy continued to vent. "Going after someone who's connected? It's fucking suicide!"

"We don't know yet, it might not be her fault. It could have been an accident, could be a misunderstanding, something, anything."

"No, this has got Wickham all over it." she said through gritted teeth. "Ok, I'm coming back, I'll be in London by tonight. Go and see Cyclops, have him run this Alexander Laska and see what he comes up with and then grill Kitty, the girl has to know something…"

"I tried, Lizzy."

"Well fucking try again!"

"Ok, ok."

"And Jane, please be careful. I know she's family, but please don't take any risks. Please."

"As you said, she's family, Lizzy," Jane replied coldly. "I'll take whatever risks I have to."

With that she clicked off. Lizzy stared at the blank screen for a minute before throwing it hard against the wall, the plastic and metal crashing with a sickening sound. Should have seen this coming.

* * *

Knew what she needed to do. Without hesitation, without thought for consequences or risk to her current score, she burst out of the room and down the corridor. Got to the lift and hammered in the button.

"Come on, fucking come on!" she shouted, much to the shock of a couple passing by for early checkout. Finally, the lift arrived and she got in, hammering the ground floor button within an inch of its life. It seemed to take an age to reach the destination. She pushed the doors open as soon as she heard the judder and ran straight up to the reception desk, greeted by a confused Mrs. Reynolds.

"Anna? Is that you?" she asked. "I thought you were a redhead."

She'd forgotten the wig. She must have yanked it off during the phone call.

"If you're looking for Hugo I'm afraid he's just left." Mrs. Reynolds was saying, much to Lizzy's relief. At least that hadn't gone wrong.

"I need to see Darcy, now." she said breathlessly.

"Darcy? As in Mr. William."

"Yes, yes, Darcy. I need to see him."

"Anna, it's half past seven, business hours don't start until nine for him. I can't interrupt his down time."

"No, no!" she yelled. "I have to see him now!"

"What's the matter, dear," Mrs. Reynolds asked, concern etched across her face. "If something's happened then I'm sure I can assist you, just tell me….."

"It's ok, Rey," a Scottish woman sounded from behind her. Lizzy whirled round to see the narrowed eyes of Georgiana Darcy. "I'll take it from here."

"Georgiana have you been out all night again?" Mrs. Reynolds admonished, judging by the ripped sleeveless top and the denim shorts and fishnets it certainly appeared that way. "I've told you before…"

"I don't have time for this!" Lizzy threw her hands up. "I need to see him now!"

"Relax Miss Hayward," Georgiana smirked. "Follow me."

Georgiana took off quickly, as if grasping the importance of the situation, Lizzy followed behind, matching the quick pace. They walked in silence through corridor after corridor, lounge after lounge until they finally came to a grand oak door. Georgiana keyed in a code and pushed it open to reveal a resplendent reception room. Lizzy had no time to be impressed.

"Where is he?" she asked.

"Wait here, Anna, or whatever your name is." Georgiana ignored her, disappearing through a set of double doors.

Time ticking and ticking. But she needed to be here. He could know something, he was more wired into the criminal world than anyone she knew. And he knew George Wickham. He could help, he could know something.

"Lizzy?" Darcy questioned confused, emerging from the same doors Georgiana had disappeared through in sweatpants and a t-shirt, wiping the sleep dust from his eyes. He was beautiful. No time to think like that. Tick tock, tick tock.

"So that's her name," Georgiana had followed him in. "Told you, girl, told you you were a liar."

"That's enough Georgiana." Darcy said sternly.

"Whatever you say, dearest brother," she smirked back, taking a seat on the breakfast bar and putting her chin on her hand with a glint. "So, this looks like it could be quite the tale. Keeping things from me again, brother?"

"I need to talk to you. Alone." Lizzy shot a glance towards his sister. Didn't want her there for this, didn't want to bring Wickham up in front of her.

"Now I'm even more intrigued…." Georgiana laughed.

"Give us a minute, Georgiana." Darcy sighed.

"Spoil all my fun why don't you," she muttered darkly, but she rose all the same. "About time you got yourself a girlfriend anyway, Will. I applaud you, she's fit as fuck."

Georgiana left with that, not before raking her eyes over Lizzy's body with an admiring smirk, leaving her feeling slightly uncomfortable truth be told.

"Sorry about her," Darcy said, eyes on the door Georgiana had just shut. "She's a little…"

"Wickham's got my sister." she said baldly, cutting him off, causing him to drop the mug he had just picked up back into the sink. Landed with a clatter.

"What?" he took several strides towards her.

"I don't know!" she threw her hands up. "Jane phoned me, said some men came to the house with guns looking for Lydia and they asked about George as well. No-one's seen either of them for weeks and now this? They've done something, Will, he's done something bad."

"Shit…." he breathed out. "You're sure?"

"No, yes, I don't fucking know!" she collapsed onto the sofa, head in hands. "Alexander Laska, you heard of him?"

If she'd been looking at him she would have seen the colour drain from his face, would have seen the slight shake of the hand, the spark of dreaded recognition. But she wasn't so she didn't and by the time she raised her eyes to his, his face was as impassive as it always was.

"Laska you say… No, I'm afraid I haven't. He's the one who's looking for them?"

"It's the name we've been given," Lizzy sighed. "Tommo's asking around and Jane's doing what she can, but no-one knows who he is which we both know is not good news."

"They need to be careful," Darcy warned with a frown. "There's a chance he could be.."

"Connected," Lizzy finished for him. "Yeah, we've also come to that conclusion."

"Or he could be a nobody," Darcy argued. "Could just be some chancer."

"We can't take that chance. Look, if there's anything you know, please tell me. Anything about George or where he might hide, places, people, anything. I need something!"

"I haven't been friends with George for nearly eight years," Darcy said softly, patiently. "I don't know where or who he spends his time with these days."

"Your sister then…" Lizzy attempted.

"No," Darcy shook his head. "Absolutely not. I will not bring that man back into her life for anything. For anyone. I'm sorry Lizzy, but I can't. I just fucking can't."

"I understand." Lizzy nodded because she did. Understand. Darcy didn't owe her anything, Georgiana either. They were guilty of sins, but they were not guilty for this. This was Lydia's mess. It was a Bennet mess.

"I'll make some phone calls," Darcy was saying. "Sit tight here and I'll ask around…"

"No, I need to get back to London. I should be going."

"Wait," Darcy stopped her. "Do you have a plan? You can't just go barging into things down there, you need to stop and think…"

"No, I need to find my sister, Will." she spat back, all the anger let out. "I need to find Lydia before someone else does. I need to sort this."

He raised his hand, as if he was about to touch her face before he pulled it away with a frown.

"Take my helicopter, it'll be faster than the airport." he said, Lizzy could hear the tone of reluctance but right now she didn't have time to dwell on it.

"Of course you have a helicopter just waiting…." Lizzy attempted to find some humour but neither could summon a smile.

"I'll call the pilot. Go back to your room, he'll pick you up in half an hour. I'm sorry I can't help you more."

"It's fine. This is not your mess. Thank you." she nodded at him.

It was strange how things changed so quickly. Strange how only hours previously they'd been laughing together in the forest, carefree with their troubles forgotten. But real life had a habit of getting in the way of things. She allowed herself one last look at him before she turned away attempting to memorize every inch of his face, every line on his forehead, every stray curl atop his skull. Tried to remember how he looked earlier, smiling and laughing, teasing and joking. But she couldn't. All she could see was him now, the worried man with another weight on him. She attempted a smile, but it just came out as a grimace. Didn't want him to remember her like this. Angry and upset and grimacing. But it couldn't be helped. So, with one last lingering look she turned and walked away from him, feeling guilty that in that moment she wasn't thinking about Lydia at all.

* * *

Darcy watched her walk away. He should stop her, hell he should force her to stay. But she would never acquiesce. Even if he told her how dangerous the situation she was about to walk into was. It was one of the things he loved about her. Yes, he still loved her. Pathetically when Georgiana had burst into his room saying Anna Hayward was here to see him, hope had risen in his chest. He could have sworn she'd wanted to kiss him earlier, sworn she was leaning into him. But he'd been too scared to take the chance, too scared of another devastating rejection. Had she come to see him to…? Well no, she hadn't. It was George Wickham again.

But George had surpassed himself this time. Alexander Laska. Fucking hell.

The decision was made for him. From the moment she'd walked into the room, this was what was going to happen.

Walked quickly into his study and over to the safe, unlocking it with still slightly shaking hands. Pulled out the address book and quickly flicked to the 'J' section, browsing until he found the right name. Took a deep breath and dialed the number.

It rang and rang until it was finally picked up.

"Is she in?"

"Maybe, who's asking?" a voice replied.

"It's Will Darcy. Tell her I need another favor….."

* * *

 **AN - At least it wasn't five months this time. Thanks to those still reading after the extended break this story took, I didn't expect anyone to still be interested so thank you. Hope you enjoyed this one, drop a review if you have the time.**


	30. Pis Aller

"We'll be landing in five minutes," the tinny voice of the pilot crackled through her headset, faint and faded over the whir of the helicopter blades.

Chanced a look down for the first time since they'd taken off, a bird's eye view of her city revealing itself through the clouds. Through the worry and slight nausea came the feeling she always got when she returned to London, the feeling of familiarity, of home. And from up here she could see it all, appearances could not be hidden from the sky. The wealth of Canary Wharf side by side with the poverty of Tower Hamlets, the splendour of Westminster and Kensington Palace standing proud whilst Grenfell Tower stood swaying, blacked out and decrepit, the rich feasting whilst the poor burnt. The city where the top 10% owned over half the wealth whilst the bottom 50% owned 5%. What had London become? But how could anyone ever want to be anywhere else? Everything and everybody was here, right here in this tiny corner of the world, a city that never lay down, that kept punching and punching above its weight. Time itself was created here. And there was so much beauty, a grimy, dirty beauty that could never be squashed however much they tried. If she could zoom in from up here, down past the skyscrapers and towers, she would see what London truly was. A different language on every street corner, Rastas side by side with white boys, defiant food bank queues, homemade satellites broadcasting to entire boroughs, teaming market streets, do-gooders and thieves. Everyone and everything was here, right here.

They began their descent and Lizzy closed her eyes. Job to do. She knew as soon as they touched down that she needed to switch to work mode. Getting emotional was not an option. It would lead to panic, bad decisions, wasted time. Couldn't afford that when her sisters' life was at stake. So she allowed herself those final few moments of upset, anger, bewilderment, self-hate. Fucking Lydia, fucking Wickham, fucking Lizzy Walker. All so stupid, all so selfish, all so fucking _wrong_. What had they done to themselves and each other? Lives wasted and cut short, old before their time, minds growing faster than their bodies, forced to deal with the consequences of an adult world when they were barely out of childhood. She sometimes wondered what the consequences would be down the line for all this. She saw it in Darcy, the way he struggled, barely clinging onto his sanity. But what about them? They'd been through worse than him, he'd always been somewhat sheltered by his wealth, so what would the consequences be for them? When she and Lydia got to his age, would they be even more broken? Would they even get to his age? Because if she found Laska or Lydia, she was aware that this could be the end of the road for both of them. She was about to step into the unknown where threats against life had been made, was this her last day on this earth?

Was she going to die today?

No idea, but she wouldn't go down easy.

And with that, she took a deep breath and steeled herself, locked the dark thoughts in a box, turned the key and pushed it back into the reaches of her mind. Job to do, job to do.

"Prepare for descent." the voice sounded in her ear again and when she opened her eyes they were down, landing with a jolt on the top of some faceless tower. Unbuckled herself and hopped out, eyes cold and ready.

"Welcome to London, Miss Bennet," a suited man shouted over the din, walking towards her as the helicopter blades began to grind to a holt. "Mr. Darcy sent me, I've got a car downstairs ready to take you anywhere you wish to go. He also instructed me to beg you to be careful."

Despite it all, she couldn't help the half smile at the words, at the thoughtfulness of the man she'd thought she hated. Shook herself quickly, no time for all that. Job to do.

"I need a phone." she said briskly as they set off towards the door to lead them down.

"Of course," he nodded, producing a small device from his pocket. "Fresh burner, minutes loaded and completely untraceable."

"Thanks," she replied as they pushed through the doors, the wind disappearing as it shut behind them. "Where are we, Kensington? How long to Neasden?"

"Yes, Mr. Darcy owns this building and several places in Kensington, traffics okay, half an hour max to Neasden."

"That'll work, Take me to Birchen Grove." she punched the button on the lift, tapping her foot uncontrollably as they waited. Finally, the lift came and the ride down again seemed to take an age, the second time that day. They burst out when it got to the bottom, Darcy's man matching her pace. Emerged from the building into the wealth of Kensington, Lizzy not even allowing herself the useless disdainful feeling she always had in the borough of the oligarchs. The back door of the sleek, black BMW opened for her and finally, they were off. Immediately the driver pressed a button and the partition between the front and back began to go up.

"No offence, Miss Bennet," he smirked at her in the rearview mirror. "I've worked with Mr. Darcy for ten years and the one thing I have learned is that the less I hear the better."

His words faded as the partition clicked shut and Lizzy was alone again. Pulled out the phone and began the calls, every connection, every contact. It was more for something to do than anything. She knew there were only three people who could really help her, and if all had gone to plan they were all in the same place. She knew this would be the longest half hour of her life.

She was right.

* * *

"Lizzy," Kitty strode up to her as soon as she exited the car, giving her a brief hug, and Lizzy was surprised by the business like tone of her sister. She'd expected Kitty to be a wreck. "Thank God you're here."

"Do you want me to wait, Miss Bennet?" the driver asked her from his wound down window.

"Please," Lizzy replied, before dismissing him as she started towards the office block that she and Cyclops had called home before she met the Gardiners. "What the fuck is going on, Kitty?"

"You have to believe me, I've no idea," Kitty said. "Fucking Lydia…"

Kitty gave her the rundown as they entered the building and made their way Lizzy's old workplace. And it turned out that Kitty was almost as in the dark as she was. All she knew was that Lydia had been growing more distant over the last few months, she'd stopped working with the Bennet's almost completely, disappearing for days at a time and occasionally popping up with notes and notes of cash. Kitty had tried to talk to her, but Lydia had always dismissed it with a joke, just saying she'd met a new Grifter and they were pulling scores in the East End. On George Wickham she had little to offer either, she knew Lydia was sleeping with him occasionally but hadn't thought twice of it, Lydia always had a new bloke on the go, and they were invariably always older than her.

"I knew he was a fucking snake first time I met him," Kitty was saying. "But honestly he just seemed like the usual loser. Harmless enough, you know?"

"Turns out we both need to work on our judgement of character, Kitty," Lizzy sighed, shuddering at the fact she had once been quite attracted to him. "Jane here?"

"Where the fuck else would I be?" Jane's voiced called out as they entered the vast space that was bare other than one desk in the middle of the room and two figures, the monocled Cyclops hunched over a computer typing furiously, and Jane leant against the far wall, cigarette between her fingers.

You knew they were in trouble when Jane smoked.

Lizzy knew from the language and the tone that Jane was angry with her. That was fine, she'd expected it. But they couldn't do this now. Rebuilding bridges had to come second to Lydia, and they needed to work together to find any sort of solution. Because Jane was good at what she did. She was the only one in the Bennet's who could hold a candle to Lizzy in terms of Grifting, if she wanted to she could be the very best. When Lizzy had first joined the Bennet's Jane had been the one everyone looked up to, remembered how she'd effortless outgrifted Charlotte and her all those years ago on the Southbank. But as good as Jane was, she'd always been half in, until now that is. One look at her confirmed this change. This was a Jane that she hadn't really seen before, cold and hard, ready to do anything, coiled like a spring.

"What have we got?" Lizzy got straight to business, walking up to Cyclops and giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. He didn't need to be here, he was a good friend and she had few of those left.

"You want the good news or the bad news?" Jane asked.

"Either or."

"Bad news is that Lydia's fucked. Good news is….. Oh yeah, there ain't any." Jane laughed humorlessly.

"Anyone got anything productive to say?" Lizzy bit with an eye roll. Dealing with passive aggression was never a strong point.

"Leave it at the door, you two." Kitty said quickly, cutting off what would have undoubtedly been an angry response from Jane.

"Yes, please do," Cyclops sighed. "It's my day off and I should be in Camden getting wrecked right now. Instead, I'm helping your ridiculous sister, so let's try to make this a productive work environment, eh?"

"Of course," Lizzy glanced at Jane who nodded back. "What have we got then? Give it to me from the top."

"Yesterday three men barged into Tommo's asking for Lydia and George Wickham," Jane pushed off the wall and walked towards her. "When we finally persuaded them we had no idea where they were, they told us that if Lydia and George didn't go and see Alexander Laska at the usual place within two days then they'd come back and… well, the threat was vague but you get the gist."

"They didn't tell you where the place was? Where Lydia and George should meet Laska?" Lizzy questioned.

"No, they said Lydia and George would know. We just needed to pass on the message."

"Great. OK, do we have any idea where Lydia is?" Lizzy directed this towards Kitty.

"No idea," Kitty replied, and Lizzy knew she was telling the truth. "She mentioned something about staying in West London a few weeks ago, but she wouldn't tell me where."

"Cyclops, what can you do on that?"

"I've been trying to trace her phone but it's switched off. I've got a contact in cybercrime who's going to get me the records so we can check common locations where her phone's been over the last few weeks, but it's gonna take time."

"And we can't find anyone who can give us a lead on Wickham," Jane continued. "The only people who we know who have any connection to him are Denny, his brother, and Mary King. Denny and his brother are locked up in Wandsworth on a fraud charge, and when I called Mary asking about him she shouted 'I hope the cunt's fucking dead', and slammed the phone down. No-one has anything on him."

"Ok, so they're a dead end for now," Lizzy nodded. "What about Alexander Laska, what do we know?"

There was an awkward silence, Kitty looking down at her shoes, Cyclops rubbing his tired eyes, and Jane furiously dragging on her cigarette.

"That bad?" Lizzy asked, dread rising.

"We reached out to everyone we know asking about him and I hacked into the MET storage cloud," Cyclops said, reluctantly. "There's not much there, but there's enough to get a picture."

"So paint it for me!" Lizzy shouted impatiently, frustration and anger rising despite what she had promised herself.

"No-one who was willing to speak to us about him knows who he is," Jane explained. "And those who weren't willing put the phone down pretty fucking quick. Too quick. They were scared."

"The Ton knows him," Cyclops interjected. "I spoke to a few of them. Of course, they said they'd never heard of him, but I know when those privileged fucks are lying. And if The Ton is running scared of Laska…."

"Will said he didn't know him." Lizzy frowned without thinking.

"Will?" Kitty asked sharply.

"She's talking about Will Darcy." Jane rolled her eyes, an edge of disdain in her tone.

"Will Darcy?" Kitty questioned Lizzy with a raised eyebrow.

"I was at Pemberley playing a score with the Gardiners," Lizzy attempted to brush it off. "Our mark very unfuckinghelpfully decided to stay there for the Edinburgh race meet. So I had to go. Bumped into him, that's all."

"And you just _happened_ to be discussing Lydia with him when you were in the middle of a score?" Kitty's eyebrows rose even higher. "And you call him 'Will' now?"

"Drop it." Lizzy warned.

"You think Darcy was telling the truth about Laska?" Jane asked, her eyes softened slightly at Lizzy's uncomfortable reaction to this line of questioning.

"Yes," Lizzy shrugged. "But he's Will Darcy. He's one of the best liars I've ever met."

She hadn't really considered that Darcy had been lying to her earlier, but she had to concede it was a possibility. It could have been a lie born out of self-protection, an attempt to protect her, or he could have been simply telling the truth. Who knew? But it didn't matter, he couldn't help them now.

"It doesn't matter anyway," she vocalised her thoughts. "What do we know about Laska?"

"People are scared to talk about him," Jane shrugged. "Cyclops?"

"Here's where it gets murky," Cyclops took over. "The MET's storage cloud has basic information on him with mentions of him being connected to drug dealing, trafficking, and prostitution rings. We know that he was born in Slovakia in 1976, that he's based in East London, and that his number two is a Czech called Milan Kadlec. We also know that the MET ran an operation on him in the late noughties but it was closed down quietly, despite major evidence against him being uncovered. The last line of his bio says 'all information passed on to Scotland Yard'."

"What does that mean?" Lizzy asked.

"I can't be sure, but my guess is that it means he's connected," Cyclops pinched the bridge of his nose. "It means he has pull with the police, and if he has the power to shut down a major case against him it means he's a big as it gets in this city."

' _George didn't care who he ripped off, and he seemed to purposefully target the most dangerous people in the city, all for the thrill of it…..'_

"You said Lydia was dealing, Jane?" Lizzy asked, the picture becoming clearer.

"Jesus Christ, Lydia," Jane whispered, jumping on Lizzy's train of thought instantly. "He's a supplier, isn't he? Rule number one, don't steal from fucking drug dealers!"

"So, Lydia stole from East London's premier drug supplier," Lizzy shook her head. "Fantastic."

"And if Laska's using his own name on the street, she stole big. This ain't no small time rip and run." Cyclops finished.

Silence descended. Lizzy took the fresh cigarette from between Jane's fingers and took a long drag. This was bad. Worse than she had expected. Because until five minutes ago there was still the possibility that this was an easy fix problem. That Alexander Laska was just a chancer, that it was a misunderstanding, that a solution was simple. But it wasn't. Lydia had stolen from a connected drug supplier.

"He's going to kill her," Jane said in a quiet voice. "We all know how these stories end. You steal from a supplier, you get killed. How could she be so stupid?"

"We can fix this." Lizzy muttered, but she wasn't sure she believed it.

"You have two options," Cyclops offered. "You either find Lydia before he does and make her disappear…."

"But we can't, can we?" Kitty cut him off. "Firstly, we have no fucking idea where she is, and secondly, if she disappears Laska's gonna come after the family. He knows where Tommo lives, he knows who we are. We can't all run. He'll just get to us instead. It's too risky."

"So you have only one choice." Cyclops inclined his head.

"We buy her life," Lizzy finished for him. "We find Laska and offer to pay Lydia's debt, however much it is."

It was, as Cyclops said, the only option. It was also an awful plan. They knew how this worked. If Laska was as big time as they believed him to be, money would matter little to him, at least not when weighed against his reputation. To run a whole compass point in the city required total respect on every level of the street, it meant that you could never show give or take, it meant that you had to deal with any transgression, whether it be big or small, totally and in a way that stopped anyone else even _thinking_ that they could do you wrong.

" _It's not about the money."_

It meant that if you fucked up big, then you had to pay in kind.

"It won't work," Cyclops said what they were all thinking. "You know it won't."

The three sisters looked at each other. Lizzy saw the despair in their eyes, the death of hope, but she also saw what she hoped was reflected back at them. Acceptance. Acceptance that they had to try.

"How much can we put together?" Lizzy asked.

"I can kick in ten," Jane said. "I could probably push it to 20 if I called in some favours."

"Most I can get is five." Kitty sighed.

"I've got ten." Cyclops offered, again showing his colours as a true friend.

"I've got fifty." Lizzy said, her whole share from the score on Hugo Chamberlain that seemed so long ago now. She'd have to ask for an advance on it, but she could get it.

"Fifty!" Kitty looked incredulously with a smile, attempting and somewhat failing to lighten the mood. "As in fifty thousand actual pounds? Jesus, Liz, you've been doing absolute _bits_ the last few months if you've got that kind of cash!"

"That's all your money, Lizzy," Jane said softly. "You sure?"

"She's family," Lizzy replied firmly, Jane nodding back with a half smile. At least that was progress. "So that puts us up to eighty five. I reckon we could push it up to the 120 mark with the rest of the family."

"It's not enough," Cyclops warned, and Lizzy knew he was right. "You can't do this. It's fucking suicide! The best case scenario is he laughs in your face and you get out of their alive, but relieved of all your money and Lydia will still get killed. If Laska is getting personally involved, it means Lydia stole a massive amount. 120 will not be enough. You need to wake up!"

' _Look around you, Lizzy. Does it look like I need money? No, no, not like that. I'm disappointed….'_

What else can I do, Darcy, she thought. What else can I do?

"So what, we just let her die?" Kitty turned on Cyclops.

"And the three of you and the rest of your family get to live!" Cyclops waved his arms frantically. "I won't let you do this, I can't!"

"It's not your call, Cyclops." Lizzy patted him on the arm gently, feeling a rush of warmth for the older man who was so concerned for them. She was closer to him than anyone outside of the family and Charlotte, they'd spent months holed up in this shithole corner of London, running scams and scores, laughing and arguing, scheming and smoking. Grifters together, working and bonding. But this was beyond him now. This was family business. Total loyalty, that's what Thomas Bennett had demanded of her all those years ago. And recently she'd been failing to fulfill her promise. Now she was going to right that wrong, even if it meant losing everything.

"Don't make me do this, Lizzy." Cyclops begged.

"Find him," Lizzy ignored his pleas, eyes cold and hard. "Find Alexander Laska and do it now. One hour or I swear to God I'll kick down every fucking door in this city until I find him myself."

* * *

She'd left Jane on the phone to Tommo, begging for money from the rest of the family. Jane was better at that kind of thing, she was hard to say no to. And Lizzy didn't really want to speak to her father figure right now. Because Tommo would do what Tommo did, he'd look out for her and talk her out of what they were about to do. He'd lie and say there was another way, that he'd sort it out. And she'd listen to him because she always had. But he couldn't do anything about this one, they all knew it. This went way above him to a face of London crime that he had no business looking at. No, he needed to be kept at arm's length, kept sheltered from it. He may have been their leader, but it was in name only these days. He'd done enough for them, he deserved to live in peace. Twenty grand poorer probably, but still in peace.

She ascended the stairs to the roof, shielding her eyes from the blinding sunlight as she pushed open the always unlocked fire door. Used to come up here all those months ago when this was she and Cyclops' base of operations, came up to look out on the city and think. Think about the next score, run over all the possible problems and solutions, dream big about what she was going to accomplish. New York, Vegas, Shanghai, Dubai, Beijing, Seoul, Sydney, Paris, Milan, Cape Town, Rio….. All the places she was going to go, all the places she was going to Grift in. But now those dreams seemed lost, they seemed naive and petty, they seemed ignorant and selfish. Whilst she was planning her career moves the people who she proclaimed to care for were falling apart and they were doing it right here. Right here in this view, in this city.

"Hell of a view." Kitty said from next to her, surprising Lizzy. The girl moved like a cat, she'd heard no approach.

"It's London." Lizzy allowed herself a smile.

"I didn't want to come here, you know," Kitty sighed, sliding down the wall to sit on the gravel, eyes not leaving the sprawl in front of them. "To London I mean. It was Lydia who pushed it. It was always Lydia…."

"Where were you before?" Lizzy asked, curious. Strange as it sounded she knew nothing about her sister's lives before they had met. Lydia and Kitty had always kept it to themselves, always changed the subject when asked. And no-one ever pressed for an answer because that's how it worked. They were all lost souls searching for a place, and when they found one the past had to die. To talk about what they'd been through before all this was something that just wasn't done because they all wanted to forget. Or at least Lizzy did.

"Here and there and everywhere," Kitty laughed fondly. "This is the longest we've stayed still since we ran away, three years after we first met."

"Ah, so you're not real sisters." Lizzy nodded as if she'd suspected all along. She hadn't.

"No," Kitty confirmed, pulling her rizlas, weed, and tobacco out of her pocket and beginning the process. "Don't look at me like that, I'm not gonna smoke it, keeping a clear head. Twisting spliffs relaxes me is all, gives me something to do with my hands."

"Fair enough."

"I met her in a group home in Birmingham," Kitty revealed, eyes down and focused completely on her task. "Social services took me away when I was eleven, all tired eyes and forced smiles in their crappy Ford Escort. Dad was dead, Mum was on so much Smack she was about to Winehouse it and join him, so I was taken into the loving arms of the state."

Lizzy snorted at the sarcasm but didn't interrupt. She'd never hear Kitty talk this much, never heard her share anything.

"They put me in this group home right next to the railway line, about twenty bunk beds in each dorm, and of course I got stuck right next to the window. Heard the trains clatter and clatter all through the night, window rattling. I used to just sit up all night and watch them roll by, making up stories about who was on them and where they were going. The noise didn't seem to bother the others, they all slept like fucking babies. Been there so long that they didn't even hear them anymore, like when you live under a flight path I suppose, eventually you just don't hear the planes. You ever been in a group home, Liz?"

"Once or twice." Lizzy murmured, not keen to elaborate.

"Yeah, I get it," Kitty shook her head. "Anyway, this home was ok I suppose. Better than a lot of them. Lydia was already there, and obviously, she was running the show."

"I bet she was." Lizzy laughed fondly.

"I _hated_ her and first," Kitty chuckled. "Such a fucking princess. She ran the dorm, used to steal my stuff with her little followers all the time, but the staff would never punish her. She'd always talk her way out of it. And she kept getting adopted as well, they'd bring in potential foster parents and she'd charm them all on the day, but when she went to live with them she'd always fuck it up by running away, stealing, doing general ignorant shit, and then they'd send her right on back. She'd swagger back in with that smile and the tallest tales. Was in and out of there like a fucking yo-yo. God, she was a dick."

"Was?" Lizzy attempted to joke. "So, what changed? How did you go from hating her to following her to London?"

"You know Lydia," Kitty blew out her cheeks. "She gets under your skin eventually. And everyone else came and went, but we stayed there for _years_ , the two of us, the truly unwanted. She kept getting sent back and I just never left. I promised myself that I wasn't going to play the game, look pretty and smile like some fucking zoo exhibit for do-gooder foster parents. I wanted to be left alone, I'd seen what a family was and I didn't fucking want that shit again. So they always picked the others and that was fine. We just stayed. Then one day, Lydia's Dad showed up at the gates after school, started screaming at her, started dragging her off down the road. And even though I didn't particularly like her, foster kids stick together. Everyone else stood there gawking, but I ran up to them and kicked him right in the dick and when he went down I never stopped kicking. God, we kicked the shit out of him. Two thirteen-year-olds absolutely battering this man, it must have been quite the sight. Then we were friends, we kind of had to be."

"Nothing like cementing a friendship with violence." Lizzy laughed, touched by the story.

"I've always admired her even when I've hated her," Kitty said, her voice finally cracking, now onto her second spliff, actions measured and mechanical, as if the small movements were holding all of her together. "She's the bravest person I've ever met. Always the first to everything, to smoke, to drop, to kiss, to fuck, to dance, to Grift... She throws herself into life like it's all a game, like all the time we have is just borrowed anyway so you might as well make the most of it. But that's the problem isn't it, Lizzy? You can't keep that going forever. We ran away when we were fourteen, trekked around this country twice over, her dragging me by the hand in search of the next adventure. But it's only an adventure until it's not. And here we are."

"Here we are." Lizzy nodded.

"It won't work, will it?" Kitty sighed. "Laska won't take the money and let her go."

"Probably not." Lizzy agreed softly.

Kitty laughed and raised her eyes skyward for the first time since she'd started her monologue, squinting at the shapeless clouds and the flickering sun.

"Then I'll go," she said, Lizzy turning to her in shock. "Give me the money and I'll go to Laska, alone. I'll try to make the deal that can't be made. You and Jane stay out of it."

"Don't be ridiculous, Kitty," Lizzy grabbed her hand. "You're seventeen."

"Like age matters in this game," Kitty scoffed. "Lydia's mine. All mine. She's not yours, or Jane's, or Tommo's, or fucking Wickham's. She's mine. My responsibility. It's how we work, she fucks up and I try to get her out of it. That's how it's always been, no use in switching it up now, no use in you lot getting more involved than you need to be."

She was ashamed to say that a week ago she might have considered it. Because what did she _actually_ owe Lydia? She'd only ever caused trouble, never once shown any gratitude for all the Bennet's had done for her, only ever been a constant weight around their necks. Bigger than her now, better than her now. Score to be played, costume to dress up in, mask to put on. _Walker,_ not Bennet.

But that wasn't right.

 _Bennet,_ not Walker.

"I was left on the doorstep of a church when I was three years old," Lizzy gazed out onto London. "Or two, or four. No idea. I was so small apparently, so weak and malnourished. I've seen some of the records from my first group home, it says I had all the hallmarks of Neonatal Abstinence syndrome, a fancy way of saying my mother was on the Brown when she was pregnant and I was never treated. She's dead now I expect. And all my life I've been angry, so fucking angry. Me and you, Kitty, Jane and Lydia, what did we do to deserve that shit? Why are we the ones who were abandoned, beaten, split apart? Why us? I used to see the kids at school with their new clothes and haircuts, talking about their next holiday, shit just talking about going home to watch the telly. Those fucking kids and their families, their parents and their brothers and their sisters. Where were our family? Where was mine?"

Lizzy grabbed Kitty's face between her hands and looked at her, nose to nose.

"But I got one, Kitty," she said forcibly, holding eye contact by ducking her head down. "Eventually, after all those years, I finally got a family. I got Tommo, Jane, Mark, Paul, fucking _Frances_ , Lydia, and you. I got the Bennets'. You're the only family I've ever known. So I don't care if you've never wanted a family again, Kitty, because tough. You've got one. And no fucking way am I letting my sister walk up to Alexander Laska by herself. Because if I do, then I'm still that pathetic creature left shivering on the church steps all those years ago, I'm still an orphan with no-one on this planet. If you go alone, you're still that kid scowling at all the foster parents, wanting to be alone. No, no. We do this together. Me and you and Jane. We try our hardest to get Lydia out of this, and if we can't at least we did it together. As the only family any of us has ever known."

They looked at each other, eyelash to eyelash, two lost souls who had only ever wanted to be loved. And when Kitty gave a single nod, it was done. They were in this. In it together.

The door clanged open.

"We've got something," Jane said, curiosity at Lizzy's and Kitty's position ignored. "Cyclops has dug up an old surveillance report that puts Laska's base of operations at a snooker hall in Newham. It's the best lead we've got."

Lizzy stood up and walked to the very edge of the rooftop, taking one last look at the view, drinking it all in.

"OK then," she turned to her sisters. "You ready?"

* * *

 **AN - Thanks for reading. Review if you have a second. More action instead of talking in the next one.**


	31. The Broderick

They sat waiting in the BMW, Jane and Kitty in the back, Lizzy in the front alongside Darcy's driver, who'd been reluctant to drive them to this part of the city. They knew why. Newham was one of the most troubled areas of London, notorious for its significantly higher than average violent crime, unemployment, and child poverty rates. The cops were always busting something, a brothel here, a modern slavery ring there, but there was always another and another and another to take its place. Coupled with that was the gang problem, knife crime on the rise, police brutality and profiling all too common. It was ironic then that this was the place chosen for the most significant regeneration of the city in years. Standing in the shadow of the Olympic Park, Newham was going through what most boroughs had already experienced. Gentrification. First came the Olympics then came the young professionals, swarming over the cheaper housing in an area that was just a stone's throw away from the swish office blocks of Canary Wharf. Trendy bars and restaurants began to pop up, retail and business parks. 'Good for the area' they all said. Bollocks. It was just another new front opened up in Britain's covert war against the poor, an attempt to price out those who had been there for generations and those who had come to Britain in search of a better life but found themselves scraping by on minimum wage. Replacing them with the middle-class drones who wanted coffee shops, vegan restaurants, and 'nice' pubs.

But by the looks of the scenes in front of them, Newham was fighting back.

They were parked on Green Street, a stretch of road that had been notorious for football hooliganism back in the day, the battles between the West Ham and Millwall fans legendary. Had even been immortalised in a terrible film with that American midget from that film with the swords and the wizards and all that shit, something which Kitty was excited about for some reason.

"I know he's awful, but he's pretty fit." she was saying, anything to diffuse the tension.

"Yeah, you have to squint though," Jane muttered distractedly, glancing around. "God, we're so fucking conspicuous in this thing."

She was right, Lizzy looked around anxiously. A top end BMW was not exactly a common sight around these ends and they knew they were drawing attention to themselves. This was not an area where wealth was displayed so blatantly. Green Street was the closest thing London had to a Bazaar, South Asian territory, bustling and vibrant at first glance but underneath appearances, as with most of London, was a darker truth, scams and scores, crime and violence. Remembered the jewellery heist last year, 1.8 million gone in an hour. The kid shot just round the corner. This was the East End after all.

Looked across at the snooker hall, inconspicuous and dirty, not exactly where you'd expect a London crime boss to conduct his business. But perhaps that was the point. Because at second glance, you could tell. The CCTV pointing outwards, the bouncers on the reinforced steel door, the way the locals gave it a wide berth. This wasn't your typical pool hall where the kids wagging it from school spent their lazy afternoons.

"When can we get the money?" Jane asked, penetrating the tense silence that had once again fallen.

"I can get mine by tonight," Lizzy pinched the bridge of her nose, a remarkably quick turnaround for that sort of cash but it still wasn't fast enough. "You?"

"We've got sixty at Tommo's right now. Hoping for another ten to twenty, but that won't be till late afternoon."

"What's the time now?"

"Half one." Kitty checked her watch.

Lizzy whistled out a breath. So much had happened in the last 24 hours. God, she was tired. The uppers Kitty had managed to get for her hadn't done much but she didn't want to take more, could leave her scattish and unfocused. Had to just push through with it.

"We can't wait," Lizzy shook her head. "We can't take the chance that he'll find her before we get the money. We need to go now and tell him we can get him the money by midnight."

"You wanna go in there without anything to offer?"

"You got anything else, Jane?" Lizzy spat angrily and unfairly. "Any other plan? You hiding a hundred grand in your bra?"

Regretted it as soon as she'd said it.

"Stop it, Lizzy," Kitty said firmly. "We just need to be sure."

Lizzy sighed again and turned to face Jane, who looked slightly hurt by her outburst.

"I'm sorry, Janey," she attempted to backtrack. "But you know we have to go now."

"It's fine," Jane replied shortly, still looking out the window. "We go now then."

But none of them moved. Each took one last look around. They were all scared. Of course they were. They were going against everything they'd ever been taught, every lesson they'd ever learned. They were three young women about to walk into a drug suppliers base of operations all alone, using a name that was blacklisted. They were about to ask a merciless man for mercy.

"You know, if we get out of this, I think I need to take you two on a team bonding weekend away," Kitty joked with a defiant laugh. "Sit around the fire and talk about your issues."

Lizzy finally caught Jane's eye and after a beat they both burst out laughing.

"Tell you what, Kitty," Jane chortled. "If we all get out of this I'll take you anywhere you want to go."

"I'll hold you to that," Kitty nodded, before she turned wistful. "I'm thinking St Petersburg. For some reason I always thought I'd end up there one day. Sipping vodka on ice, fucking pretty Russian girls on those big four poster beds with the drapes, snow falling outside the window…. Yeah, St Petersburg…"

"Russia, did not see that coming," Jane laughed. "I was thinking more along the lines of Margate, Brighton, something like that."

"That's because you have no imagination and never leave the N1 postcode." Kitty teased.

"Russia it is then." Jane smiled before she put her mask back up, what they were about to do sinking in.

"Russia," Lizzy agreed. "OK then, today's as good a day to die as any I suppose."

And before she could think about it she opened the car door, climbed out, walked across the road ignoring the stares, and approached her fate.

"I can't believe I'm gonna die before I know how Game of Thrones ends." Kitty muttered as she and Jane followed Lizzy out the car.

* * *

Her heart was pounding, her adrenaline was coursing, her mind was whirring. But this wasn't what she was used to. This wasn't the excitement of a Grift, wasn't that perfect feeling of mischief that came with a score. No, this was heavy shit. This was uncontrollable shaking, dark thoughts flashing across her eyes as if they were happening in front of her, this was pure fear. She shouldn't be here, this wasn't how it was ever supposed to go. But just as she began to waver, she felt Kitty and Jane's presence behind her and it gave her the strength to carry on.

The bouncers outside the doors had been eyeing them ever since they'd exited the BMW, and now as it became clear that they were approaching the club, they glanced across at each other, a mocking smile on both their faces. The three sisters came to a halt in front of them.

"You lost, girls?" one of the bouncers laughed.

"No," Lizzy replied. "Can we come in please?"

They looked at each other again and after a second burst out into sharp laughter.

"I don't think this is your scene," the bouncer who had a horrible rat-like face that belied his size said patronisingly. "Now run along back to daddy's beemer. Fucking class tourists…."

"We're here to see Alexander Laska." Kitty butted in, too quickly for Lizzy's liking. Immediately the smiles were wiped from their faces and the laughter was gone as quickly as it came. Air was thick, tense, ready to jump off. Lizzy prepared herself for everything, even running if they had to.

"Never heard of him." the rat dismissed, but Grifters like the Bennet's could spot lies a mile off.

"Oh come on, mate, let's not play this game," Lizzy cocked her head to the side, remembering her interaction with the greatest Grifter of all time and taking a leaf out of her book. "I know he's here, you know he's here, I know who he is, you know who he is, etc, etc. I'm here to see him."

"If you knew who he was then you wouldn't be here calling his name out in the middle of the street. You'd know how dangerous that could be for a little girl…."

Lizzy smiled, glint in her eye.

"Well, I like to live dangerously," she lowered her voice, with a wink added in for good measure. "And some men like yourself might find themselves in a dangerous situation if their boss found out they'd lost him a fortune by turning away such, what was it, 'little girls'?"

Could see the sudden uncertainty in both their eyes. They glanced quickly at each other, but this time it wasn't to laugh at their expense.

"Run it upstairs," the rat instructed his colleague, who pulled out a mobile phone with a scowl and walked into the club. "You three wait here and don't talk to me."

Lizzy turned back to her sisters with a grimace and they waited in silence, each running their own thoughts. This was it now then. Looked out across the market street in front of the club, marvelling at the human race, the way they capitalised everything. Money, money, money. Honest and dishonest. Saw a woman across the road in a long dress and shawl gesturing animatedly with the flowers in her hand at passers-by, shaking them in their faces and seemingly shouting at them. The man on the corner wearing the long trench coat that would undoubtedly open up to reveal knock off French cigarettes or fake watches if the right words were exchanged. The little boy and girl weaving between the stalls, stealing everything they could fit in their tiny pockets as they danced below most people's lines of vision. An honest living indeed.

"You frisked them?" a bored voice drawled out, causing the three sisters to twirl around quickly.

In front of them was stood a man who wouldn't warrant even a second glance on the street, such was his manner. He was of medium height, wiry frame some would call it, short brown hair tight in a ponytail, about the only characteristic that would make him stand out. His hazel eyes were narrowed in their sockets, slightly hooked nose turned up. Jeans and a bomber jacket that had seen better days, Lizzy knew straight away that this couldn't be Alexander Laska.

"I didn't think….."

"Three randomers come off of the street and you don't frisk them?" the man raised an eyebrow. "Sloppy boys, very sloppy. Remember what happened to the last two we had working the door who made mistakes…..."

His English was note perfect, clipped and professional, only the vaguest hit of Eastern Europe behind it. Lizzy would guess at Czech, making this Laska's number two, Milan Kadlec.

"Sorry, Milan," the rat muttered, confirming Lizzy's hypothesis. "Arms up ladies."

They hesitated.

"I understand that this may be uncomfortable for you," Milan said emotionlessly, looking straight at Lizzy as if he'd identified the leader already. "But you must understand that it is a necessary precaution. The boys will be completely professional. However, if you still feel unease, I can get a female member of staff out here and they can perform the required checks."

God, he even spoke like middle management. The tone of boredom, reeling off the right words with no concern or feeling. However, it was clear that Milan was an important man by the way the two tough guys deferred and apologised to him.

"That won't be necessary." Lizzy shrugged, taking a step towards the bouncers, spreading her arms and parting her legs slightly. Rough hands began to pat her down, invasive sure, but Milan's words were followed, it was all professionally done with no leers or unnecessary touching up. Once she was finished Jane and Kitty stepped forward, repeating the process.

"All clean." the rat nodded at Milan, taking a step back.

"Good, good," Mikael replied in a monotone, eyes dead. "Take a tea break."

The two walked away, leaving them alone, Milan making sure they were out of sight before turning to them.

"OK then, now that is out of the way we can begin. What brings you to Green Street today?"

"We're here to see Alexander Laska." Lizzy replied, making sure to look him directly in the eye.

"I do not know anyone by that name." Milan said cooly.

"We've been informed that this is where he spends his time." Lizzy frowned. If Milan had been the first person they'd interacted with then she may well have believed him, he gave nothing away at all. But the looks on the bouncers face earlier when she had mentioned Laska and the sudden drop in temperature had confirmed it. He was in there, in the club, just beyond their reach.

"And pray tell, who informed you of this?" Milan asked lightly, but Lizzy knew he was fishing.

"That doesn't matter," she shook her head. "Look, we're here about Lyd….."

"LUCKY HEATHER, LUCKY HEATHER!" a shout in a voice so Irish it veered close to parody cut her off from behind, a hand grabbing tightly at her sleeve, a bouquet of flowers that had looked minutes from death shoved in her face. "BUY FOR THE CHILDREN, FOR THE CHILDREN."

Lizzy shrugged the hand off and pushed the woman away with a snarl. She was not in the mood for the randomness that this city could throw at you right now. Slightly misjudged the force she used, however, and the woman stumbled straight into Milan, grabbing at his bomber jacket to steady herself, flowers slapping him in the face. Recognized her as the woman she'd seen earlier across the street, waving the same flowers at passers-by. It was an old Gypsy scam that she was sure had died out, hadn't seen the lucky heather travellers working the streets since the late noughties. Traditions don't die easily she guessed.

"Walk away." Milan warned, his tone never rising above it's freezing temperature, and the woman scurried off with a mutter about something to do with the curse of her ancestors or some shit. Funny, normally they were more persistent than that.

No time to dwell though.

"So then, you were saying?" Milan invited.

Deep breath.

"I'm here to see your boss. It's about Lydia Bennet and George Wickham."

* * *

Milan led them through the dark, dingy club, the air thick with so much smoke that it felt like she was inhaling solid matter as she breathed in. They weaved their way through the pool tables, past the darts board, shifty looking men and women almost ghoulish in their looks staring as they moved past them, spotting people who didn't belong a mile off. The soft glow from the table lights illuminating the green baize into something shockingly abrasive on the eyes, making everything else outside their range look dull and distorted. Empty pint glasses littered the tables, the conversation was non-existent despite that fact that every table was in use, the silence punctuated every few seconds or so by the crack of the balls colliding destructively into each other. Kept her head high, eyes fixed ahead, any stare ignored. Knew the others would do the same. They finally came to the back of the room, a tatty curtain pushed aside by Milan to reveal a narrow staircase that stank of piss and decay, suspicious ruby stains like a fingerpainting adorning the adjacent wall. Didn't want to give that one too much thought. Felt the broken glass crunch underfoot as she followed him up. Jesus, what were they doing?

Reached the top of the stairs and went through yet another curtain, emerging into a cavernous space with a deep breath. The room was almost bare, the walls were undecorated to reveal the stonework, the floor was naked slabs oozing cold, seeping through her shoes to touch the skin. There was only one object in the room and only one figure, a snooker table occupied by a tall man in no less than a tuxedo complete with bowtie. His appearance was jarring coming after all they'd seen of the place, a singular beacon of cleansed and crisp formality in a sea of dirt and grime. His back was turned as they approached, studying the table intensely.

Mian coughed as they stopped a fair distance away from Alexander Laska. He didn't reply instantly, just stayed stock still. Eventually, he cocked his head to the side and began to wander around the table, only gracing them with a single glance as he was revealed. He was tall and dark, fashionable stubble working its way around his face like vines, black hair swept back to reveal a slightly receding hairline. There was something receding about his whole appearance, a man who had been undoubtedly handsome in his younger days but was now showing the strains of life. A body beginning to go to seed. Jawline less defined, skin slightly sallow, rings around his eyes so large they could be hung from, not in anyway hidden by the thick-framed rectangular glasses he wore. He wasn't fat but he wasn't thin either, a snapshot caught between his past and his future.

Lizzy began to speak, but she was stopped by Laska holding up a hand, silencing her instantly without even looking at her, showing them the prison-like tattoos that adorned his knuckles. His concentration was wholly glued to the situation in front of him. He glided around the large green snooker table, stopping occasionally to chalk his cue, blowing the blue dust away through pursed lips when he had finished. His movements were too smooth, too measured and too considered, he gave every appearance of gliding around the table as if on ice, but it just wasn't as natural as it should have been. After an age of consideration, he finally took a deep breath and settled, bending down over the white ball, lining up his shot, closing his eyes for the briefest of moments. You could tell as he reopened them that everything else had faded, that it was just the table and him alone together as one. And suddenly after all of the build-up came the violent crack of the balls smashing into each other and the slam of the pocket, like with most forms of violence, it was over as quickly as it had begun.

"You're getting better." Milan nodded to Laska, same tone, no warmth, and Lizzy was beginning to understand how Milan Kadlec could be a highly effective number two. His lack of any form of expression was terrifying in itself.

"No, no," Laska shook his head with a sigh, eyes blinking away the obvious tiredness. "A lucky shot, my friend."

"That's what you always say."

"It is important to remain humble, a lesson that brother of yours could do well to remember. Don't think I haven't heard about his bragging all across the West End about how good business is. Sometimes I do not understand how the two of you can be related. He tarnishes your name, Milan."

"Alexi just gets over excited sometimes. I'll have a word." Mikael responded tiredly, showing the first crack as if this conversation was one that he had had too many times.

"Make sure you do that," Laska nodded, looking Milan up and down. "And whilst you're over there, get some new clothes for God's sake. I swear you've been wearing that jacket ever since we got off the fucking plane. Now, what have you interrupted my practice for?"

"We're the Bennet's," Lizzy stepped forward, cutting Milan off before he'd even began, Laska raising an amused eyebrow. "We're here about our sister, Lydia."

"Funny, I do not remember extending the invitation to extended family." Laska raked his eyes over all three of them, chilling them to the bone. Doing what they did involved reading people in an instant, and Lizzy had already judged this man as feral. Never trust someone who always seems in control. His calm demeanor pointed at something altogether more dangerous. There was an animalistic quality to him, his intense eyes not even attempting to hide his hunger, a beast stalking its prey. The way he held himself was coiled as if it was a constant battle to hold himself back from giving in and attacking, ripping apart the entire world.

"We know she made a mistake and we want to put it right." Lizzy said, holding eye contact, not letting herself show fear.

"Put it right?" Laska laughed. "How quaint of you to still believe in such a concept. This is business, Miss Bennet, this is England, right and wrong don't come into it."

"Our sister made a mistake." Lizzy pressed on.

"That is what siblings often do, as Milan here will tell you," Laska began circling the table again. "But sisters are a different thing altogether, it's all a bit messier with them. I have seven sisters, can you imagine? A few years back, I wanted to take over on the Seven Sisters Road up in Haringey and move them in there to run things. A certain poetry to that is there not, my seven sisters running Seven Sisters? Milan here talked me out of it, said the Clerkenwell Firm would be unhappy and it would cause more trouble than it was worth. You're based in North London, correct? Savages up there these days, no, no, Milan was right. It's best to stay in our lanes….."

"You're right, this is business," Jane stepped forward to stand shoulder to shoulder with Lizzy, attempting to get things back on track. "So we've come with a proposal…."

"Yes, I expect you have," Laska sighed, turning back to his snooker table to examine the mess of colour he had left behind, moving over to the far side so they were separated by the luminous baize. "You'll offer me money, drugs, sex, something or other I'm sure. Then I'll explain to you what you already know, that I want or need none of those things, that this situation goes beyond such trinkets."

"120 grand is not a trinket." Kitty butted in, Lizzy grimacing. That wasn't how she wanted to play this.

"For you perhaps not," Laska smiled broadly at Kitty from across the table. "And I must admit to being begrudgingly impressed, I did not expect associates of a street rat like Lydia Bennet to be able to come up with that sort of capital on such short notice. Then again, one thing I have learnt in this game is that desperate people make bigger moves. It sounds like such a big number to ordinary people does it not, 120 thousand pounds? The thing is, ladies, I am not ordinary people. In fact, I've made it my mission to be exactly the opposite, and therein lies our problem. Or rather, _your_ problem."

"It's still money, real money, right now." Lizzy attempted to argue, hope sliding and slipping out of reach. And she realised just as she'd finished saying it that she'd made her first mistake.

"Right now? Did you find 120 grand on them when you frisked them, Milan?" Laska asked his number two without raising his eyes from the table.

Shit.

"Nothing, boss."

"Pray tell, Miss Bennet, do you have 120 thousand pounds on your person?" eyes flicking between the blue and white balls.

"Well, not here but…".

A sudden explosion of movement and sound cut her desperate backtracking off, Laska swinging his snooker cue above his head and cracking it down on the table, wood splintering violently in all directions causing them to cover their eyes to avoid the tiny knife-like shards. When they raised their sight to the man in front of them they found the previous repressed incarnation gone. In his place came the animal, eyes wide and wild, veins pulsating from his neck, the broken half of the wooden stick raised back above his head pointing straight at them, like a javelin thrower about to release his weapon. The fact he was wearing that tuxedo made it all the more surreally frightening.

"I fear I may have given the impression that this is a conversation between equals," he growled menacingly. "A conversation where your truth can be twisted."

"I meant no disrespect…" Lizzy tried but it was to little avail. This man was a psychopath.

"You said you had the money right now. You don't. You lied to me, you attempted to cheat me."

"She didn't…" Jane tried, cut off before she could finish again.

"Milan, go downstairs and find someone who owes me something. Find me a fucking _example_."

"Boss, come on…"

"DO IT!" Laska yelled, whipping his weapon around to point at Milan, who showed no reaction other than a nod before he disappeared.

"Mr Laska…." Jane attempted yet again, but again it was no use. They'd set him off, they'd played it all wrong.

"Don't fear, Miss Bennet," Laska grinned wildly, still pointing the sharp stick it them. "I'm about to extend to you all the hospitality that the East End is so _famous_ for. Do you even know what your sister and that little prick George Wickham did? Do you even know why you're in this situation?"

"We can take a guess." Lizzy mumbled. She had never been able to turn off her mouth however dangerous the situation was. Luckily Laska seemed to pivot back to his earlier mood, dropping the stick to the floor and moving across the room to examine the other cues in the rack on the far wall.

"Of course," he replied. "One of my associates runs a little card game in the backroom here every week and George has been coming for years. I was, of course, unaware of his existence and attendance here until recently, such things are below my pay scale. But I am told other than one time a few years back when he lost big and took some um … persuading to pay what he owed, he's been a good customer."

" _George ... he was in big trouble with a Card Shark in the East End. He needed to pay up and fast."_

The world really was small, wasn't it? Everything's connected and all the pieces matter. Right here was where Georgiana Darcy's nightmare had also started…..

"So far, so innocuous, no?" Laska continued. "But then, a few months back, George approaches Milan looking to be put on the payroll. Said he had connections in all the Casinos across town and wanted to move our product in them. Now, this seemed like a beneficial enterprise, the Vietnamese had just been shut down by the police so the opening was there to be filled. Milan tested him out with a little starter package and he did well, turned a tidy profit for all involved. So we gave him more and money was soon being made. He and your sister are fantastic drug dealers, even caused me to raise an eye at their profits they were so high. Anyway, George comes back and demands a meeting with me and once we are in a room together he spins his yarn. He says he can get me better quality Brown at half the price I am currently paying. I am sceptical but he's been reliable so far, so again we trial it. We set up a deal, I give fifty thousand, and sure enough, the drugs come and it was everything promised. Want to tell me where the story goes?"

"They were Grifting you," Lizzy sighed, holding back the anger she was now feeling towards George, and towards Lydia. "It's a classic Convincer. They give you a little to show that it works. Build up your trust for the Big One. Let me guess, Russian businessman?"

"Arabian," Laska corrected with an acknowledging nod at her quick thinking. "Said he'd met this connection through the Casinos. So then I up my order and….."

"Something goes 'wrong'," Lizzy finished grimly, knowing exactly how this played out. "What did they say? Police bust?"

"You've done this before," Laska laughed. "Your sister comes to Milan and says George is in prison after the police raided the deal. This can happen, has happened before. I'm annoyed, angry, but I know how to take a hit. Only what George doesn't know is that I have a, shall we say, _mutually beneficial_ relationship with Scotland Yard. I check it out and sure enough, no large-scale drug busts in the last few weeks. Put two and two together and here we are."

"Stupid bitch." Kitty muttered under her breath, the tone conveying realisation and resigned horror.

"How much?" Lizzy close to whispered, realising just how naive they'd been.

"Half a million," Laska grinned broadly at them. "But it's not about the money. Half a million, ten grand, a single pound coin, it's all the same to me. However much you steal, the punishment is the same….. Ah, Milan, excellent!"

* * *

Lizzy span round towards the direction of Laska's eye line over her shoulder. Milan was back, dragging a large man forcibly by the front of his stained shirt with an iron strength that belittled his stature. He pushed past them and threw the man down in front of Laska with such force that he fell straight forwards, cracking his cheek on the edge of the wooden table with a cry of pain and a spurt of blood from his mouth.

She was no stranger to violence, she grew up in the state, she ran Short Cons on the streets of London, straddled the two sides of the city, rich and poor, had found violence to be equal in both. But she'd never quite managed to desensitise herself to it, not like others she knew had. Indeed, Jane and Kitty looked on nonplussed by the turn, they'd seen this kind of thing again and again. So had Lizzy, but it always seemed to affect her more, each and every encounter searing into her brain, worming their way around the dark alleyways of her mind, past the rattling doors within which held repressed memories that were begging to be unleashed, begging to be let out and sabotage the mental state that she'd worked so hard to build and maintain. Deep breath. Inhale deeply, exhale slowly. Not now, not today. The doors would remain locked, the keys thrown away never to be discovered. For today at least.

"And who is this?" Laska asked, pushing the man over with his shoe to reveal his bloody face.

"I don't know," Milan replied nonchalantly. "Lefty says he owes five hundred for one of our poker games last night."

"The deadlines tomorrow!" the man on the floor managed to choke out. "The only reason I haven't got it today is cos the bank's closed! It's Sunday!"

"This true?" Laska raised an eyebrow at Milan.

"Probably," Milan shrugged in response, not caring at all. "You try finding someone who owes us something who is actually _in_ our place of business."

"True, true," Laska chuckled, studying the man on the floor. "A preemptive warning then."

Moving fast as a cat, Laska dragged the man up and slammed his face into the side of the table again, this time teeth flying out of his mouth along with the blood, the cry of pain even more pronounced. Laska locked his eyes onto Lizzy's as he hauled the man up and repeated the action, the short, sharp brutality. Felt that sharp surge of fear course through her as she did her best not to look away, not show any reaction. Fear at those eyes that came alive with the violence, bright and wild, happy. Nothing more terrifying than someone who actually enjoys cruelty.

"Lesson learned you think?" Laska breathed heavily, absentmindedly wiping his brow with his bloody hand, a trail of dull red being left behind on his forehead.

"I think so." Jane said coldly, using the technique that she always did. Jane could shut herself down if she wanted to, turn her emotions off and on at will, especially when she was working. The only time Lizzy had seen real feelings properly get the better of Jane was in the whole Charlie aftermath.

"So calm," Laska grinned with feral eyes, picking up the white ball from the table and tossing it up and down. "I'm not sure I've quite got my point across to our guests, Milan. Get him up."

Milan dragged the man up yet again, this time pushing him over towards the corner of the table whilst Laska picked up his snooker cue, carefully chalking the end of it.

"Which part do you want?" Milan asked. "Dick?"

And then Lizzy knew exactly what was about to happen, what horror they were about to witness.

"Please, Milan, there are ladies present!" Laska chided his number two. "I don't want to give them the impression we're savages. Now tell me, Mr…?"

"Freddie," the man answered the implied question, voice thick with blood and shaken with fear as he raised his eyes up across the table.

"Mr Freddie. Are you left or right handed?"

"What…"

"Tell me….." Laska singsonged. God, he was a true psychopath.

"Left." Freddie shouted, confused.

"Right it is," Laska nodded at Milan, who grabbed Freddie's right hand, balled it into a fist, and pushed it down onto the table just in front of the pocket.

With one last smile at Lizzy, Laska rolled the white ball in his hand out onto the table, extended his cue back, and slammed the ball across the table at the speed of light, the sound of broken bones sickening as it crunched into Freddies exposed knuckles, causing him to fall back in pain as if shot.

They needed to get out of there now. Lizzy could feel herself crumbling from within, could feel herself about to break.

"Once more for luck!" Laska shouted gleefully, hopping up and down. Milan yet again dragged Freddie up, but this time he bent him over the table, slamming his head into the green baize that was now flecked with crimson blood. He then grabbed a handful of Freddie's hair and pulled, forcing his head up, chin resting over the pocket. Laska lined up his shot again, but this time he paused to look at them before he took his shot.

"Your sister owes me something," he spat. "If I don't have both her and that fucking cunt Wickham here by the end of the day tomorrow, I'm going to do to your whole fucking family what I'm about to do to poor Freddie here. And then, if she's not here the next day, I'll do the same. Not here again the next day, the same. Your mother, your father, your brothers, you three, I'll leave it so none of you will be able to speak without a fucking computer. One blink for yes, two blinks for no, etcetera. Do you understand?"

Lizzy nodded, working harder than ever to keep her face neutral, keep herself from falling apart in front of him.

"Excellent," Laska grinned broadly, quick as a heartbeat striking the ball again straight into Freddie's prone chin, bones shattering again.

"Now fuck off."

* * *

They were pushed out of the club by Milan, Lizzy somehow managing to retain her footing through her stumble, barely missing knocking over two street kids gleefully running past the club who swerved to avoid her, bumping into Milan, safe in their innocence and mischief. Was as if she was in a daze as she staggered across the road back towards the car, no thought for the oncoming traffic. Couldn't hear the beeping car horns or Jane and Kitty's shouts that followed her through the rushing in her ears. Pushed on, one step at a time, in danger of collapse at any moment. Somehow she made it to the car, clambering into the front seat with no thought for grace. Sat back and closed her eyes, attempting deep breaths, attempting clarity of mind, attempting something, anything. But nothing came. Punched the dashboard, Darcy's driver looking on, alarmed. Felt no pain. Punched it again. No pain. And again and again. Methodically and without a shout or a scream, she punched and punched until her hand couldn't take anymore, and she slumped back with a thud.

Felt a hand on her shoulder, she knew Janes touch anywhere. Searched with her bloody hand behind her until she discovered Janes, grasping onto it for dear life, blood pouring down and entwining them both. Focused singularly on the contact, on her best friends skin, on the slow circles her thumb made around her fresh wounds.

"Get us out of here." she vaguely heard Kitty order the driver.

They pulled away, the silence of defeat all around them, weighing them down.

"What are we going to do?" Kitty broke the quiet after a while.

"There's only one thing we can do," Jane sighed. "We're going to find Lydia and then….."

"And then we run," Lizzy finished for her. "All of us are going to run."

Finally, as she looked out the window at London blurring by in its shapeless glory, the tears began to fall.

* * *

 **AN. Hello. Hope you're having a nice day. Let me know what you think of this one if you have the time. Had a few problems uploading it, managed to post an earlier version which had a key bit at the end missed out but sorted it quickly so should be fine. I'm hoping to wrap this one up soon but then again I am very inconsistent with my promises so take it with a pinch of salt.**


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